


Ridingstone Hall

by QuietBubbles



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Class Differences, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, but not too slow, chapter a day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-18 19:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14220300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietBubbles/pseuds/QuietBubbles
Summary: The turn of the 20th century. Much to his surprise, Daniel, an ordinary orphan, secures a position as tutor to an affluent family in the country. However, this stroke of luck soon runs short as he is thrust into a world eternally on the brink of scandal. Warring parents, unhappy children-and the eldest son, miserably engaged to a socialite, soon begins a beautiful secret scandal of his own…





	1. Deep Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Guess who's back...with a new fic! Hope you enjoy! Check back tomorrow for more-I am generally very good at posting a chapter a day and will give a heads-up if there will be a gap. 
> 
> This chapter has a lot of exposition, but things will get moving tomorrow...
> 
> As usual, I own nothing and everything and everyone here is pure fiction. 
> 
> Much love to all xxx

  _Deep breath. Deep breath. Easy now._ _Easy_ …

 “Oi! You getting off or what?”

 The sharp bark of the driver snapped Daniel out of his thoughts. He had been gazing at the door rather than opening it, and had quite forgotten that there were others in this cab meaning to continue with their journeys, even further into the North. Among hard stares, hurriedly, he gathered his luggage-a second-hand black briefcase containing his papers, and a little brown bag containing all else he had in the world-and half-tumbled out of the coach, landing with a crunch of stones on the road below. “Thank you!” he called up to the man at the helm.

 “Hmph!” came the driver’s response, before, with a sharp shake of the reins, he drove on. As the twin chestnut horses trotted briskly away, small stones flying from the wheels of the coach behind them, Daniel took that deep breath-and his lungs were filled with clean, country air. He had been travelling since dawn, first a few miles’ walk, then the steam engine, then finally this coach, which had dropped him unceremoniously in this-the village of Little Ridingstone. The afternoon sun softly dappled the grey stone walls, yellow moss creeping over the jagged edges in a way that was almost pretty, like the dandelions speckled gaily on the green field beyond, on which a herd of brown sheep grazed. It was the picture of pastoral beauty.

 But Daniel was not for the village. Tapping his pockets for a moment to find his instructions, he produced a handwritten letter, and consulted it to make certain of that which he already knew by heart-he was to follow the path all the way through the village, clear across two fields beyond, and then, the letter told him, he would be able to see his new home.

 _Home_. How could such an arrangement ever feel like home? Daniel sighed a little as he folded the letter away. Still-it was more than he had left behind…

 As briskly as the horses, he began to walk along the little cobbled path, finding the soles of his shoes rather too thin to give much protection on such uneven terrain. His pitiful luggage was not heavy, but after he had walked for a good half-hour in the sun, it felt as if he was carrying sackfuls of rocks. He had put on his good coat-his only coat-to save room in his bag, but he regretted it bitterly now. Unable to stand the heat a moment longer, he pulled the coat off, threw it over his arm and continued on, his crisp white shirt sticking to his back beneath his waistcoat. It was far too causal a look for daytime in the city-but he was not in the city now. And, he thought with a pang of sadness, he may never be again…Taking another deep breath, he went on.

 One field…two fields…mud, cows, sheep, dandelions…and finally, behind tall black wrought-iron gates, at the end of a long gravel driveway-he saw it.

 Ridingstone Hall. A vast, sandstone manor, like a cream cake that had been dropped in the centre of the pasture. Daniel’s heart fluttered as he looked at it-quite the most majestic building he had seen in his life. There were _seven_ chimneys, rising like flowers from the crenelated roof. Each of the three storeys bore endless long, glass windows, blinking in the afternoon sun, right the way down to the enormous blue front door, which welcomed visitors at the head of a wide, stone staircase. Surrounded by vast fields, there were tall green hedges hiding gardens behind the house, and before it, either side of the lengthy driveway, there were immaculate lawns, punctuated with pleasant, perfectly pruned trees and beds of flowers. From this distance, with the place in miniature, it could have been a picture in one of Daniel’s books. He took another deep breath, drunk on the purity and splendour. Ridingstone was all he had imagined and much, much more…with newfound vigour, he began to step more lively across the enormous field before him, towards the magnificent wrought-iron gates.

 Here was the place that Daniel would call home, this wondrous cream cake of a small palace! He pictured sitting on the lawn, under the spreading shade of the tallest tree, and reading in peace and comfort, until the sun went down over the rolling countryside, when Daniel would take his books inside and read by the light of one of the many fireplaces the numerous chimneys suggested…but then, of course, he reminded himself, he was here to _work_. And work he would, he thought joyfully, a smile forming around his lips. He had hoped and wished and prayed for an escape-and what a glorious miracle this position was! He was to be a tutor to the children of the Lester family. The very thought of it was absurd. He, Daniel, had been entrusted to teach children who could trace their ancestry back to kings and queens, lords and ladies! They held no titles now, but with such an enormous and beautiful home one could easily be fooled. And now, Daniel would share it. All of his training was about to gloriously be realised…

 What would the children be like, he wondered? There were three of them, he knew, two boys and a little girl-but oh, what would his new master and mistress be like? _That_ was far scarier…but, with yet another deep breath, he knew that _confidence_ was key. He was a good tutor. He would do well-he would teach these children as best he possibly could. And he had to trust that everything else would fall into place…after all, how could it not in such a beautiful place?

 However, like most things, Daniel quickly began to realise that Ridingstone looked far better from a distance. The nearer he came to the manor, the more imperfections became quickly apparent. The lawn, which Daniel had taken to be immaculate, was badly in need of trimming. The trees spread in a chaotic way, branches and twigs littering the ground beneath them. Daniel frowned, quickening his pace yet again-before suddenly grinding to a halt at the top of the great driveway, directly before the vast iron gates. The sandstone of the manor, which had looked so perfect, like sponge cake-was pale and sickly-looking, and in places a pale grey colour. And, as he looked up at the house itself, it seemed that all of the curtains on the right-hand side were drawn shut. Why would anyone close curtains in the afternoon?

 Slightly more incredulous than before, Daniel _held_ his breath as he reached the vast iron gates. The black paint on them was peeling, and the flakes gently scratched his palm as he put his hand to them and gently pulled, finding them firmly locked. Trying desperately not to judge by appearances, Dan peered behind the railings, looking around for-

 “Ah! _There_ you are!” A fruity Irish accent suddenly hit his ears-and, seemingly from nowhere, a small, reddish woman in black, with a tightly wound bun on top of her head, appeared. Her hair was muddy brown, and she had small grey eyes which seemed to notice everything as they looked up at Daniel. In that instant, he realised who she was.

 “Ms-“

 “-Reilly, yes.” she rushed before he could finish. “And that makes you Mr Howell.” She reached into the pocket of her black dress, and fished out an old brass pocket watch, flipping it open and consulting it carefully. “You are six minutes late.” she said, fixing him with a cold stare.

 “Oh-I’m sorry-I-“ he stammered, terrified-before a wicked little smile spread across the woman’s face, contrasting hugely with her harsh demeanour.

 “Your reference said you were quick-witted. I suppose that only proves your last master himself is of very _slow_ wit…” Producing a large key, she slid it into the iron lock, twisted it, and so opened the huge gates. Daniel had to spring out of the way as she swung them open towards him. He dashed around the gate, and had to skip a little in his step to catch up to Ms Reilly, the housekeeper with whom he had corresponded, who had sent him his arrival instructions, who had already set off at a quick pace towards the house. She had not even shaken his hand. Clearly, despite her streak of humour, this was a highly efficient woman-the only sort of woman to whom the smooth running of such a house could be entrusted.

 “You came very highly recommended. Your schoolmaster makes you out to be practically Erasmus incarnate.”

 Daniel felt his cheeks grow hot, and not because of the fast walk.

 “I am sure you will live up to your reputation…” Ms Reilly cast a look of doubt at him over her shoulder.

 “I am sure I will prove myself before I can learn my way around this enormous house, ma’am.” said Daniel, his tone icily polite, for her reservation had set a small fire of determination inside him.

 Oddly-the housekeeper gave a short, sharp laugh. “A tight schedule you have there for yourself! You had better start now.”

 “What? But the place is vast!” Daniel shook his head, wondering how many times he would be confused before he had even crossed the threshold of Ridingstone.

 “We use only the west wing of the house here now.”

 Daniel blinked-then looked back at the house, which was growing larger by the moment as they neared it. Though, perhaps, it was not as large as he had first thought. Ah. That explained the closed curtains, anyhow. But- “Why?”

 “You’re a one for questions.” Ms Reilly remarked, shooting him another dark look-but she sighed. “The mistress made the economical decision to only use half of the rooms, thereby saving on heating and living costs, and men and women like ourselves to keep it all going.” She paused. “That was three years ago. She has since made the decision again, halving the half.”

 Daniel blinked hard. His landing this job, as an ordinary orphaned scholar, was seeming less and less miraculous, and more and more an… _economy_.

 “In other words, Mr Howell, I am sure you won’t require a map.”

 “No, ma’am…” Daniel murmured under his breath-but still, the sharp housekeeper heard him, and laughed once again.

 “Disappointed? The last tutor was too,” She paused, for now they stood at the foot of the stairwell, which led up to the large, blue front door. Daniel felt a swooping in his stomach. “I’m sure you’ll be disappointed again before the day is out. But I encourage you, Mr Howell, not to disappoint us. God knows we don’t need any more of that.”

* * *

 

 “...and your room is below, past the kitchens and the forth door on your left. I’m sure you will be very comfortable.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” said Daniel earnestly, his fingers clasped tightly in his lap. He had found himself in a small office, simple oaken panels on the walls and a large desk in the centre, of which he sat on the visitor’s side. Ms Reilly herself sat in the larger chair, consulting a stack of well-organised notes beside a typewriter. Though it was small, and certainly sparse, everything was as clean as could be in this room. But it was a private domain. As for the rest of the house…

 “You will tutor the children in the classroom, third floor, left hand side. There you will find everything you need.”

 “Yes, ma’am.”

 “Now…the children…Master Laurence and Miss Flavia are eleven and nine years old respectively. In the morning, directly after breakfast and prayers, you will tutor Master Laurence. Master Laurence will be going to Harrow in the coming autumn, and the master is keen for him to get a head-start on the curriculum so that his studies will not impact his cricket,” Here, the housekeeper gave a small sniff of reproach. “He must not be idle this summer season when he is not playing, but his nose must be kept to the grind, focusing on his Latin, History and mathematics.” There was a small pause, before Ms Reilly leaned over her desk, lowering her voice slightly. “The young master is…prone to occasional bouts of laziness. But I am certain that with a _strict_ schedule and a _watchful_ eye, he will do just fine. Do you understand?”

 “Yes, ma’am.” said Daniel, certain from her tone that the problem was somewhat larger than she had indicated.

 “In the afternoons, when Master Laurence will train, you will teach Miss Flavia. She must focus on her reading, poetry, French, and the pianoforte.” Again, a pause, a hushed tone. “She did not make much headway with her previous tutor. It appears that her interests are wont to wander, but with a _firm_ handling, I am sure she will flourish. Is that perfectly clear?”

 “Yes, ma’am.”

 “The evening is yours to spend as you will, but understand that loutish drunkenness or any unacceptable behaviour in or outside our estate will not be tolerated.”

 “Yes, ma’am.”

 “...Do you say anything other than “Yes, ma’am?”

 “Yes, ma’am. Er-I mean-“

 “Oh, do not fall over yourself like a foal,” Ms Reilly raised an eyebrow impishly and stacked her notes, banging them hard on the desk-before fixing him with a hard stare. Somehow, still, it was not unkind. “I am sure you will do well here, _if_ you are willing to persevere. I am afraid that the children’s previous tutor did not possess such a quality. However, that is neither here nor there where you are concerned...Fresh starts, and all.” A slight cough, and a business-like tone. “Now-do you have any questions?”

 “Yes, actually,” said Daniel, straightening up a little. “I was told that the master and mistress have _three_ children?”

 “ _Well_ ,” Ms Reilly blinked, seemingly surprised that he knew at all. “The tutor has _certainly_ done his homework on us…There is the young Mr Lester-Philip. But you need not concern yourself with him. He is a grown man-a few years older than yourself, actually.” Once again, she leaned towards him: “… _He is of the mistress’ first marriage_.” she stage-whispered, as if she expected this to explain everything.

 Daniel, uncertain and rather abashed, quickly nodded. He made a mental note not to concern himself any further with the Lester’s eldest son.

 “If that is all, the master and mistress have invited you to the drawing room for an introduction. You will also meet the children before they retire to bed.”

 “That sounds wonderful, ma’am.” Daniel said, doing his best to smile.

 “Good.” Ms Reilly got to her feet, using the desk for support. “I will show you there now. Follow quickly, please. I have much to do this evening.”

 Daniel positively sprang to his feet and hurried after her through the door, feeling rather guilty, as if it was his fault he had been asked to arrive on such a busy day. But there was a swooping feeling of nervousness in his stomach-he had not expected to meet his new master and mistress, or indeed his new charges, so quickly. He thought of the long walk, the sweat, the removal of his- _oh_! Thrusting his luggage into one hand, he struggled back into his good coat with the other, trying to appear half-way decent. Once he had managed to don it while following the housekeeper up a flight of back-stairs, he quickly combed his hair with his fingers, hoping that his curls were not springing wildly all over the place. He could still feel the stickiness of sweat on his forehead-oh goodness, whatever were they going to think of him?

 Finally, they reached the first floor of the back-stairs, and Ms Reilly opened a door onto a family hallway. So flustered was Daniel that he hardly had time to take in the polished floorboards, the glass cabinet containing a flock of taxidermized birds, from little robins, to sky-larks, to swans and even a heron. On the opposite wall, there was a large, ghostly rectangle, where a landscape painting must have recently hung. Ms Reilly turned a corner, and suddenly they were face to face with a large, attractive oaken door, a bird in flight carved into the wood. Daniel wondered how many more birds he would see throughout the house. But he did not have time to wonder long.

 For, from behind the closed door of the drawing room-there was the unmistakeable sound of an argument.

 “…no more of these excuses and distractions!” A male voice, precise, but with an unmistakeable Northern twang. “You know that the Whittakers will not wait forever, and we have lead them a merry dance for long enough! I have tried reasoning with you. You know why you must do this, and yet you remain entirely obtuse!”

 Daniel had rarely felt more awkward than he did at this moment, listening unwillingly to conflict. But Ms Reilly, giving a roll of her eyes that Daniel was sure he was not meant to see, waited patiently. It seemed that this was not a rare occurrence.

 “Shouting will do no good, Alfred!” A female voice, the very counterpart of the male. “He is not one of your huntsmen, he is our _son_ , and I refuse to let you speak to him in such a manner!”

 “Oh, _is_ he?” the male voice retorted, dripping with sarcasm. “Well, then, as I am his _father_ , I _order_ him to do his duty to his family!” There was a pause-then a grunt like a wild beast. “Philip, why must you continue to enrage me with your silence? You know I cannot stand it!”

 “I do not like to argue.” A quiet voice. Male, but younger.

 “And yet here we stand!” The older male shouted.

 “And yet here we stand.” The younger. He spoke calmly-but with the resolve of a soldier. “I have made my position on the matter clear. I will not do it. There is no reason for any more discussion. Good afternoon, Mother.” The sound of footsteps, growing fainter across the room on the other side of the door until-the sound of a door slamming shut.

 Ms Reilly took this as her cue to knock sharply.

 “Yes?” the female voice called quickly-while the male raged on.

 “ _That infuriating, insolent little bastard-“_

 Ms Reilly swung the door open so fast that Daniel felt a draught. “Good afternoon Sir, Madam.” she announced, bowing her head briefly. Daniel felt that he ought to do the same, feeling more nervous and awkward than he had ever felt in his life. The drawing room was painted a pale green, but he did not take in much more from his surroundings. His eyes flew straight to his new employers.

 Mr. Alfred Lester, esquire, had stopped shouting the moment the door had opened, but he was still rather red in the face beneath his black hat. He was not a tall man, but he was broad and seemed to have been built like a brick wall. Mrs. Emmeline Lester, on the other hand, was pale, and every aspect of her seemed to be long and thin. Her hair was greying, but still dark, and tightly curled beneath her bonnet. She looked almost as flustered as Daniel felt-but managed to smile. “Ms Reilly.”

 “The new tutor, as you requested.”

 Both sets of eyes flew immediately to Daniel. He felt his cheeks grow hotter, feeling as though he was on display.

 “Excellent,” said the mistress, her forced smile still in place. “Would you kindly fetch the children?”

 “At once.” Ms Reilly left the room, leaving the door open behind her-and instantly, Daniel felt twice as exposed. He was alone with his new employers-and the master still looked extremely bullish, his face turned from him as he tried to calm down.

 “Mr. Howell, isn’t it?” the mistress was saying.

 “Yes, ma’am.” Daniel found himself repeating, feeling stupider by the moment.

 “I trust Ms Reilly has briefed you on your requirements.” she said, her large blue eyes cutting into him.

 “Yes, ma’am.”

 “Do you play the piano well?”

 “I-I have been taught well, ma’am.” he replied nervously.

 “Good. I am very keen for my daughter, Miss Flavia, to learn.” Suddenly, her gaze deepened. “You look very young...”

 There was a silence. For the life of him, Daniel could not figure out how he was expected to reply. “Y-yes, ma’am?” he said uncertainly.

 “What does your father do?” Suddenly-Mr Lester had spoken. He had sat himself down on a comfortable-looking chair, and was rubbing his forehead, as if he had a headache. No doubt his step-son was the cause of said headache. Daniel tried not to show his slight fear of him. The redness had somewhat faded from his cheeks by now-but he was still rather intimidating. 

 “I-I am not sure, sir,” he replied, as politely as he possibly could. “He died when I was an infant. And my mother soon after.”

 The mistress showed signs of being moved by this story, as so many were-but the master merely nodded curly. “Who raised you, then?” he asked, like a schoolmaster addressing a dim pupil. 

 “I was sent to live with two maiden aunts, sir. They brought me up.”

 Another nod. The master seemed on the brink of another question-but, fortunately-there was another knock on the door.

 “Master Laurence and Miss Flavia.” came Ms Reilly’s voice.

  With a warmer smile, the mistress extended her hands. “Come here, children,” she said, her tone softening. “You must meet your new tutor.”

  Daniel took a final deep breath. 


	2. A Dash of Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all once again! Thank you endlessly for reading, and for leaving kudos and comments! Every one is appreciated so much <3 love to all. I hope you enjoy this chapter. More tomorrow! xxx

 The sky was an extreme blue on Daniel's first morning at Ridingstone. It was scarcely broken with clouds, and looked almost tropical over the pasture beyond. And beneath it-his new life was quite as perculiar as he had expected. 

 Being far too nervous to eat more than a few bites of bread for breakfast, Daniel arrived in his new classroom early. He found it to be small and square, with but one window giving pitiful light. There was a desk, a small blackboard, two chairs, a cupboard in which he found writing materials and old textbooks, and in the corner, an upright piano. He delighted in the instrument, especially as there was a tempting stack of sheet music on top of it-but it had proved, sadly, to be the most inspiring thing in the room. He sighed. How was one supposed to be excited about learning when one was expected to do it in this rather grim place? No wonder Ms Reilly had warned that the children were less than keen.

 Daniel pulled the curtains back as far as possible to let as much of the morning light in as he could. Then, he looked around at the walls, wondering whether he might be allowed to put some things up on it-a world map perhaps? He had found one in the cupboard, beside a stack of French and Latin dictionaries, and a rather confusing cricket ball he was sure was not meant to be kept in there. Yes. This room certainly needed some work. But there was no time for such things today.

 One minute after the hour of nine, there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, it was swung open to reveal a tall, broad young boy with dark hair slicked so tightly to his head it looked like a skull cap. He was as pale as his mother, and so his nose was rather sunburned from the hours spent outside playing various sports. His clothes were spotless and brightly-coloured, which contrasted immensely with the dirty scowl he wore. He was the very picture of the whining schoolboy, with his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school. But here he was.

 “Good morning, Master Laurence.” said Daniel cheerfully, with a smile-which turned the boy’s scowl into something very incredulous indeed.

 “Good morning.” he replied, with the politeness he had been taught, before he took his seat at the desk, sitting perfectly upright-though he could not stop a sigh escaping. There was a small pause-before Daniel realised that he was looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to give instructions. He steeled himself. It was time to get to work.

 A small test of Latin vocabulary was enough for Daniel to realise how much he’d have his work cut out with this boy. It was no wonder his parents were so keen for him to study over the holidays, especially if he was to be sent away to school in a few months. In Daniel’s opinion, there was no shame in being slower to understand, but that was a view seldom held in education. Though he loved teaching, Daniel could not help but feel the tedium of the repetition of nouns himself. It was the popular way to teach, but he could see why the boy’s eyes were beginning to glaze over, why his feet had begun to tap impatiently on the floor. As they moved rather desperately on to History, Laurence began to spin his pen around in his fingers rather than use it, small blots of ink appearing on the desk.  

 “Now, why don’t you try it again?” Daniel asked him politely in the third hour, hiding his exasperation.

 Master Laurence screwed up his eyes, his fists clenched on the desk. “George the First…reigned from 1714…to 172…5?”

 “1727.” Daniel corrected him patiently.

 “Seven,” Master Laurence repeated obediently, but Daniel could see he was already more than disheartened. His feet tapped faster on the floor. “George the Second…reigned from 1727 to…1750?”

 “1760.”

 Suddenly, the boy slammed his fist down hard. Daniel could see a flash of his father’s rage in him as his face turned red with anger, and, Daniel thought, embarrassment. He looked so hopeless and dejected, it was quite saddening. “It is no use!” he declared. “I cannot do it!”

 Daniel wondered whether the boy would have dared speak to a schoolmaster in such a way if he was at Harrow, or were Daniel anything other than plainly the least intimidating person in the world. But he could see no point in upsetting the boy further by reprimanding him, or trying to pretend that he was the strict tutor he simply was not. “Yes you can,” he said, gently encouraging. “Of course you can. You must apply yourself-“

 “I still do not understand why Papa is making me tutor over the holidays.” Master Laurence said, increasingly daring now. He stared longingly through the window. “I bet all of my friends are out playing cricket... _They_ do not have to trouble themselves with dead monarchs...” He drummed his fingers on the desk. It seemed that he could not sit still.

 It was a shame, Daniel supposed, to be inside studying rather than outside playing as a boy of eleven should be on such a lovely morning…Suddenly-he had an idea. It was risky-but if he pulled it off, it could be brilliant.

 “Stand up, if you please.” he asked of his student, before hurrying over to the cupboard. He heard the squeak of chair behind him as Master Laurence obeyed, and found the out-of-place cricket ball of before.

 “What’s that?” Master Laurence asked as he returned-but instantly, his eyes lit up. “A ball?” He frowned, despite his glee. “What use have I for a ball in a history lesson?”

 Daniel smiled, standing about six feet from his student. Then, he threw the ball. “Think fast!”

 Without any trouble at all, Master Laurence caught the ball in two hands. Daniel had to suppress a grin-the boy had displayed more concentration here than he had for the entirety of the lesson. He was looking up at Daniel, still confused, but looking more hopeful by the moment. Daniel held out his hands expectantly, and, instantly, Laurence returned the ball to him. He had more trouble catching it than the boy did, but he just about managed. They continued this rally for a minute or so, beginning to move around the room as they passed the ball between one another. Master Laurence threw and caught with ease, while Daniel dropped the ball once or twice, but this only made his student laugh. It took no more than this to see the hopeless-looking boy fill with natural confidence, back in his comfort zone.

 “Now,” said Daniel catching the ball. “George the First.” He threw it.

 “1714.” called Master Laurence, catching and returning.

 “Until?” Daniel threw again.

 “1727.” Master Laurence caught with ease-before faltering. After a moment, he realised what he had done. A small, uncertain smile spread across his face. He said nothing-but he caught Daniel’s eye, and grinned proudly. Daniel felt a rush of warmth inside. This was what teaching was all about. There was nothing traditional about it-but the boy had just surprised himself.

 “George the Second?” he tried, throwing the ball again.

 “1727.”

 “Until?”

 “1760! Ah, you missed!” the boy giggled, as Daniel sheepishly groped on the floor for the ball.

 

* * *

 

 Daniel could not help but feel very satisfied with himself as he ate his lunch, rather more enthusiastically than he had done his breakfast. He did not know what his new employees might make of his methods-all he knew was that by the time their lesson had ended, Master Laurence could recite the dates of every Hanover monarch up to the current Queen Victoria perfectly. After all, that was all that really mattered.

 Despite the success of his first morning, he could not quite settle into Ridingstone. There was something so peculiar about the place, though he did not know whether this was his imagination. A sort of strangeness in the atmosphere, like an unfinished argument still ringing in the air. Perhaps this was simply because he had first entered the house in the midst of an argument, but the tenseness still had not quite left him. He rubbed the back of his neck-it had a slight ache in it, as if the thick air lay heavy on him. Still, he could not truly complain. He had a warm bed, food, and employment, and what did it matter if the family was at war? His only concern was the education of the young children. And now, he was to educate the youngest.

 Miss Flavia had seemed shyer than her brother, unwilling to look him in the eye when they had met the previous evening. She had long dark plaits and was rather small for her age, with pale skin and delicate little hands bunched up in her dress. She had been reprimanded by her mother for such decorum, pulling her head upright and folding her hands neatly. Daniel wondered how she would behave when left alone with him. Something told him he would not be able to teach her with the aid of a cricket ball.

 Still, he was sure he could get through to her. Perhaps they could begin with some pretty poetry, something sweet and rhyming, before moving on to something equally pretty for her to learn on the piano. He had a feeling that gentleness, not route and flying cricket balls, would be the way to engage her. How advanced was she, he wondered, as he made his way back up the back staircase and into the family corridor of the second floor. Still, the abundance of stuffed birds alarmed him. There were many ghostly shadows of paintings on the walls, he had found, as he slowly saw more of the house. It seemed that every painting in the manor had been sold, leaving only the avian collection to grace the hallways. Something about their glass eyes, staring blindly at him, unnerved Daniel greatly.

 At least there were none in the classroom, he thought with relief, as he pushed open the door, expecting to find an empty classroom, where he could prepare for the afternoon’s classes before his student arrived.

 However-this was not what he found.

 Miss Flavia was already sitting at her desk, wearing a grey dress and pinafore, her hair plaited as neatly as the night before. But she was not alone. Crouching by her side, pointing at a page of complicated-looking equations in a thick book that lay open on the desk, was a Person whom Daniel had never seen before. Miss Flavia was leaning down over the book, listening with rapt interest as the Person spoke.

 “…therefore, if an integer greater than one is only divisible by itself, it’s squareroot, and one, is considered a simple square-oh!” Noticing that the door had been opened, and they were no longer alone, the person sprung to his feet-and smiled straight at Daniel.

 There, standing in the centre of his classroom, was a young man of about his years, or perhaps a few more. He had coal-black hair and astoundingly pale skin, and was within an inch of Daniel in height. He wore a simple blue waistcoat and trousers over a crisp white shirt, and when he looked straight at Daniel, his blue eyes were almost electric, brought out by the colour of his clothes. But what stood out more than anything was the half-smile that played around his lips. It was quite the warmest smile Daniel had ever seen. To his surprise-he let out the smallest of involuntary sighs. The young man was so handsome, and yet looked so kind with it, that Daniel could not help but feel a little flutter in his chest.

 “Oh, hello,” The young man’s smile broadened. “It would seem I have usurped you.”

 So dazzled was he by the advent of such a person, it took Daniel a few moments to organise his tongue. “G-good afternoon, Mr Lester.” he breathed, for who else could this person be but the mysterious eldest son?

 “And to you,” The young Mr Lester nodded politely, before collecting up the book of advanced mathematics from the table. Strangely, he did not seem to draw his eyes away from Daniel for more than a moment. “Do excuse me. Flavia, you may return to _Frere Jacques_ now.”

 Miss Flavia giggled-and Daniel felt his cheeks burn a delicate pink. He had a feeling that he was being made fun of.

 “Enjoy your lessons,” Mr Lester patted his little sister’s arm, before beginning to make his way to the door. However, as he reached it-he looked back over his shoulder, and smiled again. “And good day to you…Mr…?”

“Daniel…I-I mean Howell, sir!” he hurried to correct himself, feeling more foolish by the moment.

 Mr Lester’s grin broadened, amused. “I see. Good day…Mr Daniel Howell.” And with a final glimmer, he turned, and shut the door behind him. The moment he did so, Daniel felt strangely empty. It was as if all of his organs had fallen through the floor, leaving him with nothing but useless space…The room certainly seemed colder without such a warm presence. And also oddly airless…

 “Good afternoon, Mr Howell.” A little voice suddenly piped up behind him. Daniel almost jumped out of his skin-he had almost forgotten that Miss Flavia was still here. He shook his head twice, turned back to her, and went to work.

* * *

 

 The afternoon had been far more trying than the morning. Though Miss Flavia could recite every French verb asked of her, read little poems fluently, and plucked obediently at the piano keys, Daniel could tell that she was as bored as her brother had been. However, this was not for the lack of ability, but the lack of interest in her subjects. After she had politely thanked him and left the room-Daniel had combed his hands through his hair in frustration. He did not like to put her through tedium, though these were his orders.

 Still, he remained a little sceptical of the scene he had witnessed after lunch, between Miss Flavia and her enigmatic eldest brother. Though he was sure that his eyes had not deceived him-could a child of nine really be secretly learning advanced mathematics? Surely not… _surely_...perhaps he had misunderstood the situation.

 Slowly, Daniel mooched along the family corridor towards the back staircase, where he could go to eat dinner and so end his first day at Ridingstone. He was looking forward immensely to the moment when he could lay his head on his pillow and curl up under his covers. Perhaps he would write to his aunts, or read. A wash might also be pleasant. Perhaps he could-

 Footsteps.

 Daniel stopped dead as a door swung open from the left-hand side. A second later-a dark-haired young man appeared in the corridor. Daniel realised with a slight start who it was. The young Mr Lester closed the door behind him and, not having noticed that he was not alone, leaned back against the door-and buried his head in his hands.

 Awkwardly, Daniel stood by as his mistress’ son let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. There was an air about him that, for all the world, seemed the air of a lost child. Seconds ticked by as Daniel wondered desperately what to do next. He felt certain that he was intruding-but he could not simply walk past someone so clearly in distress, even if it was his employer. Ought he say something? Ask if he was quite alright? Or was it more proper simply to pretend not to see, to walk past him to the back staircase and not look back. Whatever should he-?

 “Oh, hello. It’s you.”

 Too late. Mr Lester had noticed him-and, Daniel saw, was quickly arranging his face into something pleasant and carefree. He seemed very practised at doing this as he produced a small, yet very warm, smile.

 “Good evening, sir.” Daniel answered him politely, a little smile of his own appearing. He could not help but notice that the eldest son’s eyes were quite the most intense blue colour he had ever seen. They looked so striking with his dark hair, his pale skin… _what_? Quickly, Daniel emptied these improper thoughts from his mind as best he could.

 “Good evening to you.” the young Mr Lester returned. “I trust you had a pleasant first day.”

 Daniel was quite taken aback to find himself asked polite questions by a person of so much higher birth than himself-but he tried not to show it. Perhaps Mr Lester was an extremely pleasant person. Perhaps he simply did not have much company with people of his own age. Nonetheless, Daniel was delighted to find himself in such a position. “Very much, sir. You have delightful siblings. They are a joy to teach.”

 “You are most kind to say so,” Mr Lester said, giving a truly sunny smile. His face seemed to light up-and with it, the rest of the world. “And how is it you are finding Ridingstone?”

 Now, Daniel had to lick his lips. “ _Lovely_.” he tried.

 Mr Lester paused-then, a laugh bubbled out of him. It was such a pleasing sound, so free and youthful. “Oh, you are a terrible liar!”

 “Oh-I-I’m sorry-I-“ Daniel stammered, terrified to have caused offence.

 “No, no, there is no need,” Mr Lester waved his hand dismissively, still smiling. “Do not worry yourself, for goodness sake. It means that you are genuine. It is a rare quality…one I confess to admire.”

 Daniel could feel his cheeks turning embarrassingly pink. “I-I thank you, sir.” he breathed, hardly able to produce sound. He certainly had not been expecting such a compliment from such a person. The conversation they were sharing was an island of sincerity in a cynical, rough world, and both young men knew it. For a moment, they smiled at one another, in a moment of perfect understanding. Daniel felt most peculiar. Suddenly, Mr Lester did not seem like the troubled son of his employers, but like…it was much too bold to say as much, but just for a moment…he seemed almost like a friend.

 “Anyhow. It was good to speak to you…Mr Howell.” Mr Lester bowed his head slightly, giving him another warm smile, the light of which Daniel allowed himself to bask in for as long as he could, before it had to end. Something that he found he was bitterly regretting.

 “It was good to speak to you too, sir,” he rushed. Then, he added: “Goodnight.”

 “Goodnight to you too. And welcome.” Then, with a final glimmer, Mr Lester was gone.

 Daniel waited until he was certain he was gone-before collapsing against the wall, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. _Oh dear goodness_ …he had come over almost faint. No wonder, as his heart pounded beneath his shirt. Wasn’t the young Mr Lester just so completely and utterly charming? Those kind eyes, that laugh, that _smile_ …Daniel felt so light, as if he could float right through the window and over the beautiful countryside. How gentle he seemed, despite whatever hell his parents seemed to be putting him through. A person like that was rare, very rare…rare too was the sunlight he seemed to emanate, and how keenly the beams seemed to pierce Daniel straight through his chest-

 Wait. _No_! Daniel straightened himself up, shaking his head hard. He felt like banging his head against the wall. How foolish he was! And how improper to have such thoughts about the son of his employers! Swallowing hard, and trying to ignore the swooping feelings in his stomach, he walked purposefully towards the back staircase.

 He tried once again- _How gracious the young Mr Lester is to take the trouble to welcome the likes of me._ That was far better. Professional, yet grateful. But his brain would not stop. _How lovely he seems. How much I want to see him again_. That was slightly worse. _I wish I could see him again right this moment_. Getting into dangerous territory now. _I wonder what it would be like if he held me close_ \- “Stop it!” Daniel said aloud to himself as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He turned sharply into his little bedchamber and threw himself in exasperation onto the narrow bed.

 Despite everything-what an opportunity this was. And he would not allow his professionalism to be compromised by fantasising in this ridiculous fashion about his employers’ son. A person of higher class, higher status, higher everything there was-it was ludicrous even to entertain the thought. Ludicrous. Unprofessional. Even obscene.

 Still. When Daniel curled up fitfully in his little bed that night-he saw only eyes of blue.


	3. A Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Wow, thank you so so much for reading! I hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am enjoying writing it. Special thanks to all for kudos and comments-you really are lovely :)
> 
> More tomorrow, enjoy! xxx

For the first couple of days, Daniel kept to the same few rooms, his little room, the kitchen, where he ate, and the classroom. He did not venture far outside of the routes between them, for he was afraid of making a wrong turn and getting lost. Ms Reilly had assured him that this was near impossible, but Daniel did not trust himself. Though only the west wing was used, there seemed to be an awful lot of corridors, full of an awful lot of doors. He could easily picture losing his way.

 However, after the first week had passed, and Daniel was used to his new routine, he began to take little walks around the house. It was easy to see that most of the more impressive aspects of the house had been sold off, like the paintings on the walls. So far, Daniel had found a mostly empty chapel, a bare room with a stripped-down fireplace, and a library with only a wall-full of books. The other shelves stood sadly empty. Looking at them was like looking at a mouth with missing teeth.

 Still, he found lovely things too. There was a large window at the top of the back-staircase, and if he looked out of it on a clear day, he could see for miles. The delicate tea-sets brought to the mistress were beautiful, willow-patterned china. And, best of all, he had snuck a peak into the main living room, and glimpsed the most splendid grand piano he had ever seen. How he longed to play it…

 But there was another reason for his wanderings. Sometimes, Daniel would merely mill about the corridors, walking lengths and widths over and over again. He would steal glances through doors as they opened, stare out of windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of…it was shameful even to admit it.

 He could not explain why. There was no rational justification-but Daniel found that, between teaching, he was living to see Mr Philip Lester.

 It was never much. Sometimes he would see the back of his head, sitting in a chair, writing at a desk. Sometimes they would cross ways in the halls. Always, they would exchange a nod, and a smile. Sometimes, gloriously, a few words. They would pass the time of day, comment on the weather, anything the like. Mr Lester was endlessly graceful, endlessly charming. And still, Daniel was none the wiser as to what exactly had caused the rift between himself and his parents.

 Against his own will, Daniel was beginning to care for him. He ached to see so lovely a person so troubled. If only the barrier between family and staff was not so absolute-he wished he could ask him to unburden himself. To tell Daniel what so vexed him, to see if there was anything, anything at all, that he could do to help him. Daniel would do anything at all to see that warmest of smiles as a permanent fixture on that handsome face…

  _Stop it_. Daniel scolded himself fiercely as he finished his morning cup of tea. How ridiculous it was for him to care for a man whose family _paid_ him for his tutorship! He probably never even crossed Mr Lester’s mind. It was completely ludicrous for him to have become such an enormous part of Daniel’s…

 But two weeks had passed at the house. He had played endless games of History/Latin/Mathematics-and-catch with Master Laurence, and had put Miss Flavia reluctantly through her paces in each of her own disciplines. He had nodded respectfully to the master and mistress whenever he saw them, and watched the sheep move periodically around the fields. And, all the while, he had thought of little but the mysterious Mr Lester…but still, the natural order ticked over in Ridingstone Hall.

 But that day, all of a sudden-there was a flurry of activity everywhere Daniel looked. The household staff had seemed to double, as each member took on twice the work of an ordinary day. Floors were being scrubbed, windows washed, rooms dusted, and the grand family staircase polished until it shone in the sunlight from every open window. Even the staff quarters were being thoroughly cleaned and tidied as Daniel made his way to the classroom that morning. A housemaid tutted at him for walking across a corridor she had just swept, and another warned him not to use the bannister on the back staircase, lest he mark it with fingerprints. As he passed the kitchen, he could see every piece of crockery and silverware being scrubbed to within an inch of it’s life. It was incredible that the delicate willow-patterns were not scrubbed off the china entirely. And everyone, it seemed, was stressed. It was as if they were expecting Queen Victoria herself to appear at any moment.

 “The classroom has been swept and dusted, but you must be certain to leave it in immaculate condition,” Mr Laurel, the family butler, instructed Daniel in the corridor. He was carrying a grand antique sword in his gloved hands, presumably to be polished below. However, Daniel could not help but think he might use it on anyone who dared to leave a speck of dust behind them. “Make sure you wipe the blackboard clean, and the keys of the piano if you use it.”

 “Of course.” said Daniel. “But why-“

 Without bothering to listen to the end of Daniel’s sentence, Mr Laurel had hurried off, his shiny shoes squeaking on the freshly-scrubbed floorboards. Raising an eyebrow, Daniel threw open the door of the classroom, glad to get away from the chaos-and almost screamed when he saw Ms Reilly, her bun tied even tighter than usual, standing in the middle of the floor.

 “Ah, there you are,” she said, with the air of someone with five other places to be. “There’ll be no lessons this afternoon, so you’ll have Master Laurence for half of the morning, and Miss Flavia for the other half. Is that understood? Excellent.” Without waiting for an answer, she swept quickly from the room, letting the door bang behind her.

 Daniel blinked hard. The tension in this manor! It was almost beginning to rub off onto him, his breath slightly shorter than usual, his mind swimming with disorientation. What on Earth was going on?

 “Good morning, Mr Howell.” Master Laurence had appeared in the doorway. He wore his habitual clothes, but he had the pink, scrubbed look of someone who had just got out of a very hot bath. His hair was combed and neatly parted, his nails cut right back. And he did not look pleased about all of this at all.

 “Good morning,” Daniel responded, as the boy took his seat at the desk. At last, he could ask. “By any chance, is today a special day?”

 Master Laurence scowled. “No! That’s the worst thing. I wouldn’t mind all the fuss, were it Christmastime, or Easter, but it’s just boring old July!”

 “Do you know the reason for all the fuss?” Daniel asked carefully, hoping that it was not too bold to press the child of his employers for information.

 Master Laurence rolled his eyes. “The Whittakers are coming to visit. Madame Violette Whittaker, and her daughter Carolina.”

 Daniel’s mouth fell open. “ _The_ Violette Whittaker?” he asked in amazement.

 “Yes,” said Master Laurence, as if this was not in the slightest bit impressive. He looked at the cupboard hopefully. “Shall we begin?”

 Nodding, Daniel barely registered his joy at finding his student so keen to learn. As he fetched the ball and began the lesson, his mind was swimming with excitement. Violette Whittaker was a celebrated opera singer, the soprano of the decade. She was married to one of the most successful bankers in London, the key to the highest of society. No wonder there was such a to-do in the house today! He had seen newspaper reviews waxing lyrical about her latest triumph with the Royal Opera, singing her namesake role of Violetta in _La Traviata_ , and had wished desperately to go himself, had he the time or the money. But now, he might even catch a glimpse of her in person! This house was incredible.

* * *

 

 All too quickly, Master Laurence was gone, and Miss Flavia took his place, sitting upright at the desk. She too was neatly scrubbed, and her plaits tied so tightly that a vein was throbbing in her little forehead. “I have a headache.” she complained in her sweet little voice, tugging impatiently at them.

 “Can’t you loosen them a little?” Daniel suggested. But Miss Flavia shook her head.

 “I am not allowed. Mama says I must look tidy for Madame Violette.” she said, with the slightest frown. But then, she gave a small smile. “I am allowed to wear my white dress this afternoon.” she told him, sounding more enthusiastic than he had ever seen her before. “Miss Carolina always wears the prettiest dresses. And her hair is always neat…” Here, she sighed a little, and fingered her plait.

 “Are you excited for their visit?” Daniel pressed her-this was the most she had voluntarily spoken since he had first met her.

 “Not especially,” Miss Flavia said, her little frown deepening. “I usually scarcely see them. Madame Violette will just go to the smoking room with Mama and Papa to drink. And I expect Miss Carolina will be with Philip.”

 Daniel was somewhat taken aback at how candidly the little girl spoke. Despite her apathy towards her lessons, it seemed that she did not miss a trick. He wondered how her parents would feel about her discussing such matters with her tutor. However, something she had said had caught his interest. “With your brother?” he asked carefully, and as casually as he could. A strange feeling had begun to creep into his bones.

 “Yes,” Miss Flavia looked him straight in the eyes. “Papa wishes them to become engaged.”

 The sound of birdsong outside.

* * *

 

 Daniel found himself meandering aimlessly around the corridors, trying not to get in anyone’s way. He was supposed to be having his lunch, but he simply could not face food. This was an extremely rare occurrence. Besides-he did not feel as if he had a stomach anymore, or a digestive system, or any organs left to nourish. He felt completely, and entirely, empty. As if he was on an autopsy table, and had been scraped out clean.

 Still, he scolded himself. There was absolutely no reason for him to be upset. He did not have the right. It was not as if there had ever been the possibility in the world outside of Daniel’s fantasises of Mr Philip Lester ever looking at him twice. Men like him married the wealthy daughters of bankers and famous opera singers. Men like Daniel, on the other hand…did not have a chance.

 Staff though he was, ordinary and nameless, without any place in such high society…Daniel was human. As he pictured those incredible blue eyes looking lovingly into another’s, that sunshine smile beaming for someone else…he could not help feeling like crying.

 Oh, how stupid he was! He barely knew him, outside of polite corridor exchanges! How pathetic it was to be so upset over a pathetic infatuation…he ought to buck up, accept the situation for what it was, and go back to hoping excitedly for a glimpse of a celebrated opera singer, as he had been this morning. But, try as he might, the enthusiasm he tried to muster was extremely damp. Oh dear goodness…

 With a jolt of dread in his stomach, Daniel wondered whether they might even become engaged that same evening. It was certainly a lovely evening for it-and they seemed to be a perfect match. Could he stand to hear celebrations go on in the house, while he hid below in his bedroom, pathetically pining after his employer’s son…he was not sure that he could bear it.

 As the clock ticked nearer to the hour at which the Whittakers would arrive, Daniel-

 “Oh, hello. It’s you!”

 With a start, Daniel realised that he had wondered straight into the family corridor, outside the drawing room in which he had first met the Lesters. And, standing in the doorway of the drawing room, wearing a stiff black suit and a bright smile-was Mr Philip Lester himself. Daniel felt as if he had been punched in the face. He looked more handsome than ever.

 “Good afternoon, sir…” said Daniel, nodding his head, meaning to turn and leave as quickly as possible. He didn’t think he could stand to look at him much longer. Mr Philip Lester was probably extremely busy anyway, preparing to meet his future wife…

 “Are you busy?” Mr Lester took a step towards him, his electric blue eyes wide. For the first time, Daniel noticed faint purple rings beneath them, as if he had not much slept the previous night, if at all. Still-he smiled on determinedly.

 “Er-“ Daniel blinked, caught quite off-guard by such a question. “No. No, sir, I am not.”

 His smile becoming quietly more genuine, Mr Lester closed the drawing room door behind him. “It is a beautiful day, is it not?”

 “Most beautiful.” Daniel agreed, his heart thumping in his chest.

 “Perfect for a walk in the gardens, don’t you think?”

 Daniel smiled shyly. “I have not yet had the pleasure of seeing the gardens.”

 “Oh!” Mr Lester’s face lit up. There was a strange look in those eyes-like a caged bird with the chance to escape. “I think that such a tragedy ought to be remedied as quickly as possible. I wonder, Mr Howell, if you would allow me to escort you?”


	4. Weeping Willow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, guys, thank you so much for reading! I am really feeling the love here. And especially thank you for all the comments and kudos. Much love to all-everything is appreciated so much! 
> 
> More tomorrow-things are heating up! xxx

   Daniel could not understand, or begin to process what had just happened. But, as he followed Mr Philip Lester through the house and into the garden, he was certainly not going to question it. As he followed his employer’s eldest son though an archway cut into a tall hedge, he would not have been surprised to have seen Heaven itself on the other side of it. He did not know where Mr Lester was taking him-but he would probably have followed him like a lamb right into the sea.

 “Here, we have the sunken garden,” said Mr Lester, signalling to the scene before them. Daniel looked-and sure enough, surrounded by a stone wall covered with creepers, was a flower garden-but it was cut two feet down into the earth, as if the place had truly sunk. The flowers were largely pale and dying thanks to neglect and the sun-but it was still extremely attractive. There was a little pavilion on the far side, doubtless a perfect place to have afternoon tea.

 “Oh, it’s wonderful!” Daniel exclaimed.

 “I’m so pleased you think so,” Mr Lester gave him a warm smile, though he looked slightly amused by his gushing. “I suppose you get used to it. But it was truly lovely, back when I was a child, and Mr Collins still worked for us…he could make flowers bloom as others can raise bread.” He gave a sigh of nostalgia. “But he is gone now…”

 Daniel did not think it polite to ask why they had not simply hired another gardener.

 “But it is still wonderful,” Daniel bent down to look closer at a bed of lavender. “I think Atlantis must have looked this way, as it sank.”

 Mr Lester paused-before a small laugh bubbled out of him. “I suppose you must be right. What a peculiar thing to say!”

 “Oh-I am sorry, sir,” Daniel said quickly, straightening up. “I did not mean to cause offense-“

 “You have not,” Mr Lester shook his head, almost fondly. “I meant it as a compliment. It means that your mind must be a far more interesting place than the minds of the many, to have such an unusual thought...”

 Daniel felt his cheeks grow pink; Mr Lester must think him in a permanent state of embarrassment, the amount he made him blush. “Thank you most kindly, sir.” he said modestly, thinking for the thousandth time how charming his companion was. He could hardly believe that this was not a dream.

 “I am delighted that my siblings’ education has been entrusted to such a mind,” Mr Lester said, beginning to walk on. Lamb-like, Daniel followed him. “I must say, you seem to have made quite an impression already. Laurie has never been more keen to rise in the morning for school.”

 “That is very good to hear,” said Daniel, again with humility-but he was secretly thrilled. He was so pleased to have broken through to him. Though perhaps it was a good thing that Master Laurence had not disclosed his unusual teaching methods. “A tutor is always thrilled to see a student enjoying his schoolwork.”

 Mr Lester turned back to meet his eyes, a flash of electric blue in the sun. “I only wish Flavia was quite so enthused. She has never liked French. Nor poetry.”

 Daniel gave a slight cough, unsure how he should answer this statement, the truth of which he saw every day. “That is most unfortunate, sir.”

 Still looking straight at him, Mr Lester continued on. “Poor Flavie,” he said, his voice loaded with meaning. “All she has ever really wanted to learn is mathematics…” He gave a purposeful sigh-before continuing on. Daniel felt a jolt in his stomach. He had got Mr Lester’s hint alright. Miss Flavia’s interest in mathematics was obvious. But it was directly against his instructions from the mistress to teach her such a thing…he did not know what to do.

 “Here is the lily garden,” said Mr Lester, as they came through another hedge-arch. Daniel’s eyes were met by a large, recumbent willow-tree, the branches spreading out so far that they almost covered everything in sight. It was in desperate need of pruning-but Daniel rather liked it. And beneath its huge roots, a large pond bubbled, its surface almost entirely spotted with waterlilies. Green pads, with delicate pink flowers floating on the water.

 “Oh, glory!” Daniel stared all around. “Oh, it is just like an oil painting!”

 “I am glad you are enjoying the gardens.” Mr Lester seemed very contented himself.

 Turning back to Mr Lester, Daniel gave him his sweetest smile. Together, alone in this garden, and so far from anything else, it was easy to forget that they were from different worlds. “I am so grateful to you for showing me such marvellous things.”

 “You are more than welcome.” Mr Lester looked delighted. “Please, there is no hurry,” he said, his words once again loaded. “Take it all in.”

 Daniel wondered whether he should mention that the famous Whittakers would probably be arriving at any moment. He doubted that Mr Lester could have forgotten such a thing. But then, why had he chosen now to show Daniel around the gardens? Still, he was having such a magical afternoon that he did not dare suggest anything that might ruin it. He was more than happy to play along with whatever Mr Lester was doing. “Oh, I am!” He took a step closer to the water’s edge-

 “Careful!” Mr Lester suddenly reached out-and, before Daniel knew where he was, his hand had closed around Daniel’s. “Do not fall into the pond. It is much steeper than it looks.”

 Daniel’s heart had flown straight out of his chest and up into the air, floating around the topmost branches of the willow tree. It had to be a dream. Mr Lester’s hand, large and pale and warm, around his own. It was far too good to be true… “T-thank you.” he managed to breathe, his throat almost choked with emotion. “I feel quite safe.”

 “More fool you.” joked Mr Lester-though his own voice sounded strange. Then, all too quickly-he let go. Suddenly, Daniel’s hand felt colder and emptier than ever. But, for one glorious, glorious moment, in this beautiful lily garden, Mr Lester had held his hand. Their first touch…perhaps their _only_ touch…but it was so incredible that Daniel knew he would treasure it forever.

 “I wish I could stay in this beautiful place.” he found himself saying, his voice still far more breathy than was natural.

 “Please, do return to it whenever you please.” Mr Lester said, and again, he was smiling. “Do not be shy. I want you to enjoy it.”

 Daniel longed to ask why on Earth a man of Mr Lester’s standing would want to waste time on a person like him. Instead, he simply thanked him with all his heart.

 “Don’t mention it,” Mr Lester said. “I must confess…” Suddenly, miraculously-he took a pace closer to Daniel, and put a hand gently onto his left shoulder. “I do enjoy your company, Mr Howell. You are a rarity-intelligent, genuine, peculiar…I do not have many dealing with such people, you must understand.”

 Daniels heart had begun to race, his head starting to spin. “Oh…” was all he could manage.

 “Not many at all…” Gently, he squeezed his shoulder. “You are more than a tonic. I do hope we can spend more time together.”

 Hurriedly, Daniel found his voice. “As you wish, sir.” he whispered. _Anything you wish_ …He could do nothing but smile back, taking the opportunity to stare into those eyes, branding their exact colour and shape onto his memory, detailing every aspect of him as if he could vanish at any moment, as if this truly was a dream…

 Mr Lester was amused. “You are so sweet…” He looked at him for a long moment…and it was only now that Daniel realised how close they were. Standing here, face to face in this beautiful place, their lips but a second away from one another…For one, mad, moment, Daniel almost leaned forward and kissed him…even crazier, as Daniel looked into his companion’s eyes-he could have sworn that the thought was crossing his mind too. That was completely impossible of course. It had to have been Daniel’s imagination...He held his breath. Then, fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it-Mr Lester’s eyes became sad. “My goodness, I wish I could just stay here…I am not sure how much longer I can keep this up…”

 Daniel blinked. “Sir?”

 Mr Lester sighed. Then-he swallowed hard. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said-and the garden appeared to drop two degrees cooler. “I ought to be greeting our guests. I saw you, and took the opportunity to procrastinate the inevitable. But I will surely have been missed by now…”

 Suddenly, almost all of Daniel’s joy had drained away. He supposed he had known, all along…but to hear it spoken aloud almost broke his heart. He was nothing but a decoy, a convenient distraction to whatever Mr Lester was really running from…his soon-to-be fiancée. His future wife. It was as if the sun had been switched off.

 “I should return to the hall,” said Mr Lester, shaking his head again. But, he gave Daniel a desperate look. He looked younger and more human than Daniel had ever seen him. “Please-you must think me foolish, but please do not think badly of me. I am not a coward.”

 “Of course not.” said Daniel, confused-but comforting. He wondered why Mr Lester could want to hide from the mysterious Miss Carolina, if they were to be married. Perhaps he was shy. Perhaps nervous. But now-the dream was breaking. He was to return to the real world, where he was heir and Daniel staff. Nonetheless-Daniel cared far too much for him to show anything but reassurance. “Of course not.”

 “Look-you had better wait here.” Mr Lester said, finally removing his hand from Daniel’s shoulder, leaving it as cold and empty as his hand. “I’ll go ahead, and you follow me after a while.”

 “Yes, sir.” Daniel said. He could hear the trickle of water behind him as the branches of the willow tree swayed in the wind, making little ripples on the surface.

 Mr Lester took a few steps away from him-then paused. He looked at Daniel-and gave him the saddest smile he had ever seen. “Thank you, Mr Howell, for giving me this wonderful hour of borrowed time. I am sure I will see you soon.”

 And with that-he disappeared behind the hedge.

 Daniel looked up at the willow tree, and had to fight to keep from weeping himself.

* * *

 

 “Mr Howell? Mr Howell?”

 At once, Daniel sprang up from where he had been lying, face-down, on his bed. He did not know how long he had been there, but during this long, empty afternoon, he had no inkling of what exactly to do with himself. Perhaps it was the heat-but the day seemed to stretch endlessly before him. “Yes?” he called out.

 The door of his little chamber was thrown open-and there stood Mr Laurel.

 “The mistress requests that you come to the grand lounge at once.”

 A pang of dread hit Daniel’s stomach. Slowly, he got to his feet, and followed the butler from his room, quickening his pace to keep up. Dear god. What on Earth could the mistress want with him? To his knowledge, he had done no wrong-but if not, what on Earth was she summoning him for? Oh God-perhaps she had found out about his unusual cricket-based teaching of Master Laurence, and disapproved? Or worse-what if she had discovered the reason why Mr Lester had been late to greet their visitors today? His stomach dropped straight out of his body and fell through the back staircase as he climbed it, Mr Laurel’s highly polished shoes squeaking on the boards. They had done nothing inherently wrong, they had simply taken a walk together-but what if the mistress blamed Daniel for delaying him? Every terrible scenario as to why the mistress suddenly wanted to see him flashed through Daniel’s mind as they passed through a long hallway lined with glass cases full of stuffed birds. An enormous peacock Daniel had never noticed before gave him a very nasty look-as they stopped outside the grand lounge.

 Daniel realised, with a start, that this was the room he had discovered the beautiful grand piano in before.

 A sharp knock.

 “Yes, come in!” the mistress’ voice called from the other side.

 Feeling as if his insides were dancing a terrible jig, Daniel pushed the door open.

 “Ah, there you are!” Mrs Emmeline Lester got to her feet, wearing an elegant dress of deep blue. “Violette, dear, this is the children’s tutor, Mr Daniel Howell.”

 Daniel’s nerves doubled as he realised just whom he was in the presence of. His company quite dulled the relief that the mistress did not seem to be angry with him. For, dressed in a truly magnificent gown of bright purple, glittering with jewels, was a beautiful woman with a long mane of copper-coloured curls. She was luxuriously curvaceous, and wore a shawl of thick mink fur. Daniel realised, with a start, that he was mere metres away from the greatest soprano of the decade. Madame Violette Whittaker herself.

 “Ah, yes!” she exclaimed, in a precise London accent. She got to her feet, clad in delicate little shoes, and took a few steps towards him. The way she moved! It seemed to announce to everyone in her presence that she was some sort of royalty. “How quickly he came!”

 “Madame!” Daniel found himself automatically bowing low. Something about her entire self seemed to compel him to do so. She made him feel simultaneously the most special person in the world to be simply addressed by her, and far too shy to say another word.

 “How very sweet,” Madame Violette declared him as he straightened up. Her cat-like green eyes flashed as she looked him up and down. “Dear goodness, if my tutor as a girl had been this handsome, I should never have learned a thing!”

 There was a ripple of laughter from the assembled company. Blushing furiously, Daniel looked around the room, seeing the entire family sat earnestly in the comfortable chairs. There was Mr Alfred Lester, in a stiff high-collared suit, Master Laurence in his Sunday best, Miss Flavia in her pretty white lacey dress-and Mr Philip, the closest to the piano. His eyes twinkled proudly at Daniel for a moment, giving him a special secret smile-but, very quickly, Daniel was distracted. For, by his side, dressed in pink ruffles, was another Madame Violette-only younger.

 Carolina Whittaker was everything Daniel had feared. Her hair was a glorious copper colour, and it was fashionably arranged on top of her head and decorated with a large ornamental butterfly. She was tall, her figure as luxurious as her mother’s, her eyes bright green and cat-like. In fact, her entire being was cat-like, elegant and graceful, with a feline smile to match. Her teeth were small, and very white. And now, she was smiling at the young Mr Lester. As he looked at her, dazzled by her beauty, Daniel felt a stabbing pain, as if a dagger had been twisted into his heart. Oh goodness. She was astounding. How on Earth could Daniel had ever thought that Mr Lester could look at anyone else?

 “Is this the pianist, Mama?” she said, her voice low and hypnotic.

 “Yes, I think so.” said Madame Violette, still studying Daniel, her painted lips looking as though she could easily gobble him up on the spot. “He will do _nicely_.”

 “ _Dear_ Violette has graciously offered to sing for us!” Mrs Lester explained hurriedly. “When I told her we had an excellent pianist on site, she was delighted and asked that we fetch you straight away! You will accompany her.” She gestured grandly to the beautiful piano.

 Daniel’s rush of excitement at being asked to play for such a woman, and on such a glorious instrument, was gone all too quickly as he looked back at Mr Philip Lester and Miss Carolina. But still-he smiled broadly. “It would be an _honour_ , Madame.”

 “Quickly, then.” the mistress prompted him-and Daniel took his as his cue to hurry to the piano stool, taking his seat and looking up at the sheet music Madame Violette had placed on the stand a few moments before. _Ah_. Of course. _The Magic Flute_. He knew it well, of course. Behind him, blocking him from view from most of the room, Madame Violette was preparing to sing.

 “Whenever you are ready, Madame.” he said, damp excitement prickling at his fingers. He tried to concentrate on the opera legend in his presence and not on her daughter. On her cue, he played the short introduction-and before he knew it-Madame Violette had opened her mouth.

 Her voice was earth-shaking. That was the only way that Daniel could think to describe it. It filled every crevice of the room, absorbing everything else until all but the sound of her singing seemed gravely insignificant. As she sang the Queen of the Night’s famous staccatos, Daniel swore that his heart had stopped beating. It was all he could do to concentrate on his part and not simply lose himself in her music.

 Of course, when it ended, there was rapturous applause, which Daniel joined in with enthusiastically. He could not quite believe his luck. What a house this was! Madame Violette curtsied low, as if she was on stage in the Royal Opera House itself.

 “Brava, Mama!” Miss Carolina called, her little white teeth in a carefully measured smile. “Don’t you think that Mama is _wonderfu_ l, Philip?”

 “Oh?” Mr Lester seemed to have been staring at the ceiling. Quickly, he turned to Miss Carolina, and smiled back-but, for the first time, that lovely warm smile seemed forced. “Extraordinary, of course, my dear.” he said, rather limply.

 Daniel felt that stab in his heart once again.

 “We must do a duet, Mama!” Carolina got to her feet and pranced over to the piano, beginning to flick through the book of Mozart before Daniel with her long pale fingers. Daniel had to lean back out of her way to avoid colliding with her. She seemed to look right through him, as if he was comprised of nothing but thin, insignificant air.

 “Oh yes, what a wonderful idea!” Madame Violette agreed-before turning, with some force, to face the young Mr Lester. “Don’t you think so, Philip?”

 “Marvellous.” said Mr Lester obediently. His hands were clasped uncomfortably in his lap.  

 “Let’s have this.” Carolina had found the duet she was looking for-of course, it was _The Marriage of Figaro_. Daniel rather loved this piece. He had never in his life been more reluctant to play it. “Come on then.” said the daughter, turning from Daniel and preparing, by her mother’s side, to sing. Daniel took this as his cue from her to begin.

 Carolina was not quite as polished as her celebrated mother-but her voice still fluted attractively above the piano, sweet and strong. Daniel’s much-abused heart sank-not only was she beautiful, wealthy, and of the highest of society-she was also a talented singer. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect, for someone like his dear Mr Lester…by the time the two singers neared the end of the song, Daniel was, once again, close to tears. Still-perhaps, if anyone noticed, he could pass it off as being moved by the music.

 The applause was even more rapturous this time, and, determinedly, Daniel joined in. He even managed to craft a smile.

 “Come, come!” Madame Violette, after taking her curtsey, reached a hand back to Daniel. She wore several enormous rings on her gloved fingers. Delicately, Daniel took her hand and let her lead him out of his seat. “You too must bow, of course!”

 “Oh no-“ he began awkwardly, feeling his cheeks flush again. But Madame Violette would not hear of it, and so he too had to take a bow, bending his head as the applause slowly drained away. However, he was certain that, as if he had leprosy or some terrible disease, Miss Carolina had taken a step away from him as he stood beside her.

 “Thank you most kindly, Mr Howell,” Madame Violette was saying to him. “Flavia, aren’t you a lucky girl to have such a wonderful tutor!”

 Miss Flavia gave a shy nod of agreement.

 “ _Thank you_ , Mr Howell.” The mistress’ voice cut meaningfully through the room-and Daniel knew that it was time that he left this bizarre dream world of famous opera singers and beautiful music.  

 “Thank _you_ , Madame. This is a day I will never forget. Farewell.” With a last respectful half-bow to her, Daniel turned on his heel and made to leave the room. As he did so-for a split second, he locked eyes with Mr Lester. The dazzling blue seemed to cut right through him-and, he swore, that despite the mask of a smile he wore, they were undeniably sad.

 As he closed the door behind him, thinking on this, he heard Madame Violette call him a sweetheart, and then the tinkling giggle of Miss Carolina-before he could stand it no more. As fast as he could, without running, he made his way back to the staff quarters, to his own lonely, quiet little chamber, in his own lonely little bed. And there-finally, full of love and heartache-he wept.


	5. A Fashionable Pastry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! It's late, it's short, but it's here! A chapter a day, just as promised :P Sorry! But more tomorrow evening. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I love you all so much for it. It gives me so much joy to think that there are people out there enjoying my little scribble :P Much love. And thank you so much for the comments and kudos too! So kind of you xxx
> 
> See you tomorrow xxx

Judging by the enormous and extremely elaborate breakfast being served, Daniel knew that the Whittakers must still be at Ridingstone. He had pressed his ear to the kitchen door, listening hard to the staff gossip that morning, searching for one particularly juicy bit of news. There was no way that, had the black event occurred, the entire body of staff would not be talking about it. He had strained and strained-but there was not one mention of Mr Philip Lester at all. Daniel let out a sigh of relief. At least for now, there had been no proposal. Not yet, anyway. There was still time…

 “Here!”

 Daniel looked up, blinking hard. He had been sitting in the staff common room, contemplating a piece of bread and butter rather than eating it. There, standing before him, was Rebecca, the undercook. She held a plate in her hands. Upon it, there lay an outlandishly elaborate breakfast pastry, the very height of mainland European fashion, strewn with almonds and drizzled with glistening honey.

 “Leftover from upstairs,” she explained, her kind face smiling down at him. “The maids have woofed most of them, but I kept this one back. You look so blue, I thought you needed it more.”

 “Oh!” Daniel managed to manufacture a smile, taking the plate gratefully. “Thank you so much. That is so nice of you.” Discarding his bread, he took a big bite of pastry to please her. “Mmmm!”

 “Thanks, chickee,” said Rebecca, beaming. “It’s no bother. There. That’s got you smiling!” Looking delighted with herself, she bustled away. Daniel could hear her whistling all the way down the corridor.

 The pastry _was_ delicious, and sweeter than sugar. He took another bite, chewing slowly. But his heart was heavy as he considered that his Mr Lester would have eaten the same thing in the breakfast room right above his head. Perhaps accompanied by Carolina…Daniel shook his head hard, taking another furious bite. How small and petty it was of him to feel such a spear in his heart whenever he thought of Miss Whittaker. The woman had done nothing wrong, after all. It was just the thought of her-or anyone indeed-sitting beside Mr Lester, enjoying breakfast with him as Daniel had imagined doing himself, taking a walk with him as Daniel _had_ himself, having him take her hand as he had done Daniel’s…but meaning so much more. Meaning exactly what Daniel wished Mr Lester had meant when he had taken his. Meaning _everything_.

 Daniel was not jealous. He had no right to be so. He was merely sad. _Blue_ , as dear Rebecca had observed. Blue enough for other members of staff to take pity on him. But that little word seemed such a platitude compared to how he felt. And yet “blue” seemed the most descriptive thing in the world when he applied it to the eyes of his beloved…

 Finishing the pastry, Daniel sniffed. He wanted something, anything, to feel close to him…perhaps a walk in the gardens, after this afternoon’s lessons, would suffice…

* * *

 

 “Good morning, Mr Howell.” said Miss Flavia as she took her seat at the desk. Today, she was wearing a floaty dress of pale pink-the exact shade Miss Carolina’s had been the previous night. Daniel felt a pang.

 “Good morning, Miss Flavia. How are you today?”

 Flavia screwed up her eyes, before letting her face relax again. “Mama allowed me to stay up ever so late last night. But now I see why I ought to go to bed early…” She stifled a little yawn-but smiled. “Papa was ever so silly though. He kept singing and lifting me up and over his head, like a kite in the sky,” She stretched her little arms up, demonstrating. “Mama said he had had too much to drink from his special cupboard, but I think he was much more fun for it.”

 Daniel chuckled greatly. He was beginning to enjoy the precocious little way Flavia spoke of her family to him. “It sounds as if you had a lovely evening.”

 “I suppose I did,” agreed the student. “Madame Violette was very silly too. She said that _I_ could play the piano for her one day, just like you did!” Another smile, and Daniel felt a sudden rush of pride. He was developing quite an affection for the little girl. The more she came out of her shell, the more, he found, she was much like her eldest brother…they had the same, sunny smile, the same flashes of humour and innocence…

 “I am sure you will.” he said encouragingly.

 “I _like_ Madame Violette. She is funny.” said Flavia, swinging her legs so that the toes of her little white shoes scuffed the schoolroom floor. “And pretty.”

 Daniel hated himself. But he could not resist. “And Miss Carolina?”

 There was a pause. Then-Miss Flavia screwed her little face up. Her legs stopped swinging, her feet jutting to a stand-still on the floorboard. “Mama told me to smile and wish her good evening, but she didn’t say anything back.”

 Daniel could not help but feel a little rush of pleasure. _Ha_. Though she was beautiful, wealthy, talented, and social royalty-she was rude to children. That was _surely_ a character flaw that he could justify disliking her for…But, he kept his face blank, arranging it into one of polite confusion for Miss Flavia’s benefit. Still, he was angry too. How dare this woman be rude to his student, a little girl in her own home? It was beyond unsavoury.

 Why on Earth, then, was the Lester family so keen for their eldest son to marry her?

 “I don’t think Miss Carolina liked _you_ very much.” said Miss Flavia, giving him a funny look, her head tilted to one side.

 Daniel felt his stomach lurch. “Oh?”

 “She said you were “common”.” Miss Flavia strained to remember- ““ _Common as Muck_ ”, she said. What does that mean?”

 Mouth dry, Daniel shook his head a little in shock. Momentarily, his brain-to-mouth filter failed, and he kneeled down to her level beside her at the desk. Then, he spoke far too boldly to the daughter of his employers. “Why was Miss Carolina talking about _me_?”

 Miss Flavia looked a little surprised to be so questioned. But, gamely, she spoke on. “Well, Madame Violette was telling me how pretty my dress was, and how she wished she had one just like it. Mama told her that she was sure our seamstress could make her a copy of it. Then, Madame Violette asked whether the seamstress could make her a copy of “the sweet pianist” to take home instead.”

 Daniel spluttered. “ _What_?” His jaw had dropped practically to the floor.

 “Yes, what a strange thing to say!” Miss Flavia shook her head at the foolishness of adults and the odd world they lived in. “Maybe she wanted you to play for her in London…Then, Miss Carolina made a nasty face-“ Here, the child imitated it. “-and said that you were _Common as Muck_.”

 Daniel spent a few moments taking this in. _Common as Muck_ …what a thing to say about another human being! First of all, it was _entirely_ untrue-Daniel had been brought up very well by his aunts, he had a good education, nice manners, _and_ spoke articulately to boot! As well as any of them upstairs… _upstairs_ …slowly, the answer dawned on him. _Ah_. No matter his behaviour, or his breeding-he would always be muck to the likes of the Whittakers because he served a wealthy family rather than belonging to one.

 This was the reason he was downstairs, while they were up. He addressed the children as Miss and Master, ate his meals in the common room and slept in an empty little bedchamber below the Hall itself. This, above everything, was the reason his dear Mr Lester would marry the likes of Miss Caroline, and never look twice at him…

 Hanging his head, Daniel’s heart felt as if it was made of granite.

 “Philip got very angry when she said that.”

 Instantly-Daniel’s head snapped back up. “What?”

 “That’s why I know it was a mean thing to say,” Miss Flavia explained. “Philip wouldn’t have been angry otherwise. He never, _never_ gets angry, even when I stand on his feet by accident, or eat the last cake at teatime.”

 It was too far, much too far to go. But Daniel had to. He had to know. “What did he say?”

 “Well, he didn’t _say_ much of anything at all,” Flavia swung her legs once again-she seemed to delight in talking about her eldest brother. “He just went “ _Carolina!”_ And she said “ _What? He is_!” And then Philip got up and poured himself another drink. After, he sat back down, but not next to Miss Carolina anymore. Next to _Laurie_. And then Mama got angry with him, and he just went up to bed. Before even _I_ did!” she added, a note of pride in her voice. 

 Daniel found that he was breathing far harder than normal. This was far, far too much to take in. In his granite heart-there seemed to be the very beginnings of glowing embers…but, he told himself firmly, it meant nothing, it had to mean nothing. Of course it did not mean that Mr Philip Lester loved him in kind-they were from different worlds, as Miss Carolina had kindly pointed out. He was simply a decent person, a person who considered Daniel a human being, unlike Carolina Whittaker. But _oh_ …what a darling Mr Lester was to stand up for him! How sweet, how noble and with such righteous indignation! He was truly a hero in Daniel’s eyes, which were clouded with emotion. His heart had melted to pure butter…

 “Are we learning French today?” Miss Flavia did not seem to have noticed that her tutor was close to tears.

 Quickly, Daniel coughed, rubbing his eyes hard. He looked up at Miss Flavia, his affection for her growing, as if she was his own sister. Then-he considered the words of her elder brother, in the garden yesterday…

 “No…” he said, hoping his voice did not sound peculiar. Then, he got up, and checked that the door to the classroom was closed. When he was certain it was-he hurried to the cupboard, and retrieved a large, heavy book that he was currently guiding Master Laurence through. And it was not a book of French.

 “I thought we would try some mathematics today, Miss Flavia. Would you like that?”

 As if it had been hit with a ray of pure sunshine-the child’s face lit up.


	6. While It Lasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you so, so much for reading-y'all know you're all superstars <3 thank you too for leaving kudos and comments-it is so kind of you all.
> 
> More tomorrow-longer next time! Take care xx

 Daniel sat in relative comfort beneath the spreading willow tree, leaning against the old trunk, a book resting on his thighs. He wished he had brought a cushion from the house to sit on, as the roots of the tree were the only fly in the ointment of this otherwise beautiful evening. Still-no matter. He would have to return for dinner soon, but for now, it was wonderful to escape reality in a book for an hour. This was what he had pictured for himself at Ridingstone, he thought, as the water of the lily pond rippled peacefully beside him. Tranquillity. Clean air. Freedom.   
  
 Nothing would spoil today. Miss Flavia had been delighted with her illicit mathematics lesson, though by its conclusion, Daniel rather thought that it was she who ought to be tutoring him. Goodness, the child was magical-as if she had some sort of machine in her brain that could calculate as quick as a flash! Daniel had never seen anything like it. She has a God-given talent, that was unmistakeable-though Daniel knew that she had studied in secret with her eldest brother, no one could have taught her to make sense of numbers in the way that she did. It was a sight to behold...  
  
  _Hellfire_. Daniel quietly scolded himself, concentrating intently on the words of the page before him. He had come to the lily garden to escape from the Hall. He had swore to himself that he would not give any more thought to Mr Philip Lester...  
  
 But oh...in this beautiful place, wherein he had taken his hand by the pond only a day before, how could he not think on his heart's darling? How could he not picture his beloved Mr Lester sitting under this tree with him now, his curly head leaning blissfully on his chest, feeling his heart beat as they read this novel together...Daniel could conjure no image more perfect. The very thought of it made him misty with emotion...It seemed that whenever Daniel found himself happy or having fun, he wanted nothing more than to share it with the man he adored...  
  
 Still, no matter how vividly Daniel pictured-none of it would do him any good. In his sound mind, he knew this to be absurd and impossible...and yet, he could not help but think on his Mr Lester standing up for him, when he had absolutely no reason to do so, when speaking up was entirely to his detriment. Oh, how bizarre and beautiful it must have been. No matter the reason-it had only made him love more, faster and more deeply than ever before. The better he got to know him, the more perfect the portrait Daniel's mind painted of his Mr Lester grew. He was a work of art.   
  
How stupid he was to fall for him further by the moment. And yet, it seemed that he simply could not help it.   
  
Footsteps. Voices.   
  
 Oh _goodness_. Daniel had Mr Lester's invitation to enjoy the garden whenever he pleased-but still, somehow, he felt as if he was trespassing. Following his first instinct, without much thought as to the consequences, he darted around to the far side of the tree, crouching down amid the roots and hugging his knees to his chest. His book dug uncomfortably into his chin in his effort not to be seen by whosoever was entering the lily garden. Now-he strained to listen.   
  
 "This is the Lily Garden." came a warm, polite tone that Daniel could not mistake. His heart skipped-but who had Mr Lester brought with him? To whom was he now showing the gardens, as he had shown Daniel?   
  
 "Oh, it's awfully small!"   
  
 Perhaps Daniel had already known.   
  
 "And so overgrown!" Miss Carolina gave a throaty sigh. From his hiding place, Daniel listened hard, praying that they would not come around to the far side of the garden and discover him.   
  
 "Well, I suppose you are right." Mr Lester said in a measured voice-but Daniel knew him enough to be able to tell that he was hiding how hurt he was by these comments. "But I do think it has a certain charm-"  
  
 "Oh, you are _clueless_ , Philip!" A tinkley laugh, like tiny bells. "But not to worry. Once we are married, I will ask Daddy to have the place tidied up a bit. As a wedding gift! Won't that be nice?" 

 "How-how kind." Mr Lester sounded as though he was clenching his teeth. Daniel knew that this subtle reminder that money was tight at Ridingstone did not sit well with him. His pride was rather hurt. As for the idea of "tidying" the chaotic lily garden-

 "We could get rid of that stagnant old pond, to begin with," Miss Carolina was saying. "And that horrible, gnarly tree. Look at the moss growing on it!" 

 "The willow is fifty years old..." said Mr Lester quietly, as if she spoke of putting a beloved old family dog to the gun for being lame. "My great-grandfather planted it." 

 "All the more reason for something new!" Miss Carolina was undeterred. "Wouldn't it be smashing to have a water fountain in here instead! This garden is just the size for a little fountain-Daddy could have one crafted especially for us! That could be our wedding gift!" 

 This time, Mr Lester did not, or could not, answer. There was a short silence. 

 "Philip?" Miss Carolina was having none of it. "I just spoke to you!" 

 "Wonderful." said Mr Lester. Very quietly.

 "Honestly, Philip, you can be awfully slow sometimes. Anyone would think that you did not wish to marry me!" Another laugh. 

 Daniel held his breath. 

 Silence. 

 "Philip?" This was half an order, and half a question. 

 "Absurd." said Mr Lester hurriedly-and, horribly, Daniel could tell that he was smiling. Or, at least, pretending to. "Of course I wish to marry you."

 Daniel's heart sank-then broke in two. 

 Miss Carolina was giggling again, this time in triumph. "Then, my dear, why won't you ever ask me?" 

 A pause. A cough. "I am simply waiting for the perfect moment." It sounded as if Mr Lester had said this many times before. 

 "Well, it certainly isn't in this little moss-bed!" Miss Carolina was still giggling. "Come, dear, we ought to be returning to the house for dinner. I must pack my things before Mama and I leave in the morning." 

 "Yes, of course," said Mr Lester. "But...do go on ahead, dear. I wish to remain here for a few moments. To...to enjoy it while it lasts..." 

 "You are a strange country fellow!" Carolina chuckled at him-but it seemed that she did not wish to linger. "I will see you inside. Do not keep me waiting too long!" 

 "Never." said Mr Lester gravely. Then, with a swish of skirts and a clank of high heel on pavingstone-she was gone. 

 Daniel did not realise that he had been holding his breath until he let it go. Still curled up tightly behind the tree, Daniel sadly replayed the conversation he had overheard in his mind. No matter what, it would seem that his Mr Lester would marry Miss Carolina. As Daniel felt his already broken heart shatter, he knew that there was no relief or remedy in the world for the agony he felt...

 " _Arrgghh_!" 

 A strangled cry.

 A splash of water. 

 Without a second's consideration, Daniel flew out from behind the tree, dropping his book in the process. As he came around-the sight that met his eyes was almost more than he could bear.

 Mr Lester was kneeling down on the muddy, sloping bank of the pond, the wetness pooled around him. It appeared he had fallen to his knees at the pondside. But that was not all. He was absolutely soaked through to the skin. A hand was still floating in the water before him, ripples racing out from it all the way into the centre of the pool. Mr Lester must have pounded the water in fury and frustration. And now, he was breathing hard, as if he had just ran a long distance. 

 Daniel had never, in his entire life, seen anyone look so trapped. 

 In that instant, he quite forgot that Mr Lester was son, and Daniel staff. He forgot that Mr Lester was high, and he low. That they were from different worlds. All he knew was that the single person he cared about most in the world was hurting. And nothing was going to stop him. 

 "Mr Lester!" Faster than he had ever moved in his life-Daniel ran to his side. He had to slow down as he reached the bank to avoid slipping and falling into the water-but he just managed it. Then, forgetting all propriety-he put a hand on Mr Lester's poor, wet, shaking shoulder. 

 At the contact, Mr Lester jumped out of his skin. He darted away from him, covering his face with his dripping arm. "Leave me!" His voice broke mid-shout. 

 "But Mr Lester-!" Daniel would not give up. However-at the sound of his voice-Mr Lester peered through the crook of his elbow. 

 "Oh. It's you." 

 The voice was neither welcoming, nor dismissing. Daniel's tongue tied. 

 "Please," Mr Lester said. "I am sorry for shouting at you-but you must leave this place. I-" His voice broke again. "I do not want you to see me like this." 

 "But I want to help you!" Daniel cried, refusing to move an inch. "You are upset, and I will not leave you thus. Mr Lester, _please_ -" 

 " _Daniel_ ," said Mr Lester slowly. He lowered his arm, and looked up at him with broken eyes. "Please. It is Philip." 

 Daniel stared at him for a long moment. Mr Lester had just called him by his first name. And had asked that he, Daniel, do the same. His head began to spin. Despite the situation, despite his concern for his beloved-he knew that he and his Mr Lester- _Philip_ -had just passed a new point of intimacy, a point that masters and staff should not pass...Still, no matter how his heart pounded-it did not matter now. The onky thing that mattered was-

 " _Philip_ ," Daniel tried, feeling intensely wrong-footed at the lack of formality-and yet wonderful. He swallowed hard, before trying something softer. "Let me take you inside at least. You cannot sit there in wet and mud-splattered clothing. You will catch your death of cold." 

 Philip was silent for a very long time. He looked up hard into Daniel's face, which made him feel like the page of a book, being read with the most careful attention by a man who wished to master it. Then-he glanced back at the water. As the sky turned pink above them, he shivered in the evening sun, while the pond lapped calmly at the bank. It seemed that all was quiet in the world.

Finally, after what could have been hours-the broken man spoke: "Alright." 


	7. Propriety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you so much to all for reading, you marvellous people <3 much love. And thank you so much for the comments and kudos too! It is so kind of you to take the time <3
> 
> More tomorrow xxx

“Q-quickly,” said Philip as they closed the enormous front doors behind them. He was shivering in his cold, wet, clothes. “I don’t want to be seen.”

  
“I understand completely,” said Daniel. He felt distinctly wrong-footed as he looked up at the grand staircase in the entrance hall. It was a vast room with a high ceiling, a beautiful chandelier hanging above them, which glittered on the marble floor. All of the doors to the east wing were closed. Philip did not seem to notice that he was going to leave muddy footprints on the fine red carpeted stairs as he began to climb them. Daniel shuddered to think of what Ms Reilly would have to say about it.

  
“Come on.” Philip glanced back over his shoulder, gesturing for him to follow. With a strange swoop in his stomach, Daniel gingerly placed his foot on the bottom stair, and felt the soft carpet beneath. Never had he climbed any of the main staircases, or indeed any carpeted staircase at all. The back staircase used by the staff did not require such luxuries. But, with a deep breath, and feeling as if he would be shouted at for wrong-doing at any moment, he half-jogged up the stairs after his companion.

  
Loathed as he was to jog, and especially up-hill, Daniel could not help but feel excited as he took in his new surroundings. The fine blue paper on the walls was printed with a pattern of birds in flight, just like the other birds he saw throughout the house. The banister was still highly polished, and felt smooth beneath his fingers as they brushed it. As they reached the second floor, there was a large ghost-mark of a painting that had now been sold on the landing wall. Daniel thought it must have been the largest in the house.

  
Philip turned out onto a corridor and, after checking it was deserted, crept out towards the far end. His stomach still swooping, Daniel followed. This place was rather dark, with oaken walls, and was lined only with white doors. Bedrooms. With a start, Daniel realised exactly as to where they must be heading. Oh goodness. Philip’s own chamber.

  
“In here.” Philip had opened the very last door. In spite of his dishevelled appearance and apparent despair, still, he held the door and stood back politely for Daniel. This half-devastated Daniel, for it reinforced Philip’s sweet nature and good manners and made him ever more attractive-but Daniel tried hard to discard his own feelings for the sake of his companion and, dared he say, friend. He did not need Daniel to sigh for him-he needed support.

  
Still, it was quite something to be invited, as non-domestic staff, into the bedchamber of a member of the family. Marvelling at the ever-increasing irregularity of his employers’ household, Daniel entered Philip’s room.  
Though such rooms existed in the pages of his books, Daniel had never seen such a one. He had never considered that rooms in reality could have delicate china-blue wallpaper, lined with glossy white paint, or soft grey carpet that sank deep under his shoes. He had never seen a four-poster bed before, especially not such a magnificent oak hung with thick curtains and dressed in blue, comfortable-looking cushions and pillows piled neatly at the head. Nor anything like the wardrobe, the chest of drawers, both carved with birds. Nor the little fireplace, a white mantlepiece atop it, on which another bird danced. And, most wonderfully of all, nothing like the cushioned blue windowseat, overlooking a wide window, through which the gardens could be seen. Even from the doorway Daniel could see the willow. By the stack of books on the floor beside it, Daniel knew that it must be absolutely perfect for reading.

  
“Oh, it’s wonderful!” he exclaimed.

  
Behind him, he heard a small laugh. “You are so funny. It is just a bedroom.”

  
Daniel was more than delighted to see a weak smile on Philip’s face as he closed the door behind them. “But it’s glorious! I have never seen such an enormous bed! It must be such fun to roll from one side to the other and still never run out of mattress.”

  
Philip paused-then laughed again, giving Daniel an odd look. But his eyes were soft. “I don’t know how you do it. You make everything fun.”

  
There was a short pause while the two young men smiled at one another, each remembering how absurd the situation was-and yet, trying not to care.

  
“It is alright, I suppose,” said Philip finally. “It can get pretty cold, though.” Right on cue, he gave a shiver. “Thank you so much for taking me back. I might have sat by that pond all night.”

  
“Of course,” said Daniel, smiling warmly. “It was nothing at all. I am so pleased I could help at all.”

  
Philip smiled back-then shivered again. “I ought to change out of these wet clothes.”

  
“Oh!” Daniel splattered with embarrassment, taking a step backwards towards the door. “I’m sorry, I’ll go-“

  
“Don’t worry-there is really no need.” Philip strolled over to the bed and pulled at a cord. Gradually, the curtains closed around the bed. “Instant partition.”

  
“Ah,” Daniel smiled as Philip opened his wardrobe, shuffling the clothes inside until he found a dry shirt and trousers. “Very clever.”

  
“That’s me,” said Philip, disappearing behind the bed. Daniel shuffled his feet slightly-his heart giving an involuntary jump as he heard Philip’s jacket hit the floor. “Goodness, its freezing in here,” came his voice. “I do not wish to light the fire in the summer.”

  
“Oh indeed.” said Daniel quickly. He was beginning to feel rather awkward. Would it be proper to ask him what the matter was in the garden? He desperately wanted to help-but it seemed much too bold. Still-there was absolutely no propriety in undressing in the same room as one’s tutor...Daniel tried hard not to think too much on it as his heart tightened in his chest. “Mr Lester?” he began, forgetting their new intimacy. “I know that it is not my place to assume such things, but I could not help but notice that you looked rather upset in the garden. I wondered whether there was anything else I could do to help you?” He paused. “I do want to so.”

  
There was a short silence. “That is very kind of you,” came the reply. “I am most touched by your concern. But I fear that there is nothing to be done...” His voice trailed off at the end.

  
Daniel would not give in. “There is always something to be done...” Summoning all his courage, Daniel dared himself. “Please forgive my boldness, sir, but I am inclined to believe that your plight may have something to do with Miss Carolina?”

  
Silence.

  
Daniel waited, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he waited for the response. Oh goodness. He had gone too far this time. As no response came, the seconds ticking by, Daniel wondered whether it would be appropriate to simply excuse himself from the room-

  
“You could say that.”

  
Daniel started slightly. After a moment, Philip appeared from behind the curtain, tucking his new shirt into his clean trousers. Daniel almost blushed-it did not seem proper to see his superior in nothing but his shirt. Still, he reminded himself, there was little propriety left here. In any case, Philip did not appear to care. He was looking straight at him now.  
“...I should not speak of such things to you.”

  
“But if it will help you,” Daniel encouraged him. “you have my word that anything spoken of in this room will be left in this room. Between the two of us, and no one else.”

  
Philip paused for a while. Gradually, he looked more tempted by the offer, until-he sighed. Slowly, he walked over to the window seat and sat down on one side. He gestured for Daniel to join him. Quickly, he did so, as Philip, wary of anyone who might see them through the window, drew the curtains just enough to obscure them on each side, but not enough to block the view entirely in the centre. The window seat was every bit as comfortable as it looked. Daniel felt more than privileged. And even more so that Philip was about to unburden himself to him.

  
“I...” Philip began. He seemed to be finding it difficult to get the words out. Daniel said nothing, only nodded politely. Finally-he spoke once again. “Miss Carolina and I met a year ago. Our fathers orchestrated our meeting, and the idea is that we are to be married.”

  
Daniel nodded, trying not to look as if he had cried himself to sleep the previous night over this eventuality.

  
“However...” Philip lowered his voice now, as if someone may be listening. “I confess...and I have your complete confidence?”

  
Daniel nodded again.

  
“I confess that I am finding it very difficult to take to her.” He sighed again, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. Daniel felt that this was a very polite way for him to put it. “We have...many philosophical differences.” Another platitude. “Incompatible philosophical differences.” The politest way Daniel had ever heard to say, essentially, _she is a nightmare and I hate her_.

  
“I’m sorry.” said Daniel sadly-though, inside, his heart was glowing.

  
“Yes...” He looked at Daniel gratefully, but he was more troubled by the moment. “My mother and father are most keen on the match. Therefore, it is vexing them most terribly that I will not make our engagement official, as it were. And they...my father in particular...are not hiding their feelings, if you get my drift.”

  
Daniel nodded sadly. “You must feel under terrible pressure.”

  
“I do!” Philip looked elated for a moment. It would seem that he had been longing for someone to validate his feelings.

  
Daniel thought carefully. “...Of course, I do not understand such things. But...is there no question of your marrying someone else?”

  
Philip looked down. “No...it must happen quickly, you see. I have already chanced it for long enough. But if I ever hope for a good marriage, I have to act fast.”

  
Daniel blinked, confused. “Why?”

  
Suddenly, Philip met his eyes, deadly serious. “This is a great secret, Daniel. You must take it to your grave.”

  
“Of course,” said Daniel, leaning forward. “I swear it.” 

  
Another pause. Then, in the smallest whisper-“It is put about that I am the child of my mother’s first marriage, and Alfred Lester is my step-father.”

  
“Yes,” said Daniel, feeling as if he was on the edge of a rollercoaster.. “Ms Reilly told me on my first day.”

  
“She would have,” said Philip. Then, barely audibly-“But it is a _lie._ ”

  
“What?”

  
“I am my mother’s son. But my father was not her husband.”

  
The wind whistled by the glass outside the window.

  
“You mean-“

  
“My true father was not married to my mother. Never was, and never will be,” He said this with the air of admitting his most shameful secret. “I am a bastard. That is why I have Alfred’s surname and not my own. Alfred met my mother when I was twelve years old.”

  
There was so much to take in. Daniel felt rather rocked by this old scandal. No wonder there was so much tension in the Hall! Hiding such an enormous secret in its very walls...

  
“That is why I must marry Carolina,” said Philip sadly. “She is new money, but the best I could do-and she does not know the circumstances of my birth. I will inherit the Hall, as my mother’s eldest son-but it will always be under false pretences. It will always be a lie...” He looked down.

  
Daniel was shaken. But, at the same time-he could not for the life of him see why it mattered. Perhaps he simply did not understand the lives of the upper class-but why on Earth should the fear of his secret’s discovery ruin his life? Especially since-

  
“I get it. My parents were not married either.”

  
Philip looked up at him, and grateful understanding spread over his face. There was a moment of solidarity between them. Then-

  
“I never asked about your parents. Do you miss them dreadfully now that you are here?”

  
Daniel shrugged. “Well, they both died when I was an infant, so I suppose I never knew them to miss them.” He gave a little sigh. “Though perhaps that means I have always missed them.”

  
Philip paused. Then-his face fell with pity, and shame. “Oh, and here is me complaining about my own! You poor thing...I just want to hug you.” He straightened up, looking sadder than ever-then sighed helplessly “In fact, with your permission...I think I could really use a hug...”

  
His heart leaping into his throat, Daniel tried desperately to keep his cool. “Of course.” he said, and opened his arms. A moment later, suddenly, gloriously, heavenly-he was embraced by his beloved Philip. As he leaned into him, warm and real in his arms, Daniel felt as if he could fly...

  
“Oh, Daniel, you are such a wonderful friend.” Philip murmured into his shoulder. Daniel’s heart, already thumping fit to burst in his chest, seemed to explode in a shower of warmth.

  
“Do not feel ashamed,” he said, rubbing his hand in slow circles on Philip’s back. “I am here for you,” Then, with his new bravery: “And you are perfect, just the way you are...”

  
Philip responded by holding him closer. As he buried his face in his shoulder, for all the world, Daniel would not have let go. He would let this beautiful moment carry on forever, praying that it would never end...and, miraculously, it did not seem to be. Philip was not letting go.

  
“What did I do to deserve you in my life?” he said softly. “How lucky I am...” He sighed-then have a strange, watery chuckle. “On that subject, Flavia tells me that you are teaching her mathematics.”

  
“Indeed.” Daniel agreed, drinking in his warm, clean smell as the embrace continued.

  
“You dear thing. It is all she has ever wanted...”

  
A short silence. The most comfortable Daniel had ever experienced. As he snuggled into Philip’s shoulder, it was as if the two of them were in their own private bubble, in a piece of time and space cut off from the rest. As they held one another, neither letting go, neither breaking the spell, Daniel wished for eternity to come and go, as long as he could hold his darling boy...

  
“You are so dear to me now, Daniel...” Philip was saying, his voice very breathy. “I shall never thank you enough...” 

  
“It is...nothing,” Daniel whispered, turning his head slightly inward. To his surprise-he found that his lips were no more than a breath away from Philip’s... “I am...so happy I could help you...I...I care about you so much...”

  
“And I you...” Philip whispered, his breath tickling Daniel’s cheek, so warm, so close...their lips seemed to be drawing nearer of their own accord...less than an inch...there was a silent compelling, an aching void of empty space between them, that could be filled if they simply moved closer, closer...

  
Too close.

  
In the same instant-both pulled back from one another, their arms falling empty and cold. Daniel’s heart was racing so fast that he was almost panting, his head spinning with the rush...but he managed to find those electric blue eyes with his own...they looked wordless, shocked, confused...and yet...

  
Suddenly-cold fingers of terror closed around Daniel’s heart. What was he doing? Oh goodness, if he had been caught embracing his master, he could be dismissed from his position! Or worse...it did not bear thinking about. How could he be so foolish? Besides-now, just looking at Philip terrified him. He had never, never in his life been so close to someone..How fast his heart beat, how his head swam, the complete loss of control...and the rush of unconditional, unbearable love that had taken hold of him, never to let go...

  
Frightened, Daniel sprung to his feet. “I should go.” His voice was trembling.

  
Philip blinked up at him for a moment. There was a strange look in his eyes, that Daniel was sure his own matched. “Yes...” he replied uncertainly, running a hand through his hair as he slumped down into the window seat. Now, he looked more lost than ever. “Yes...Goodbye, Daniel.”

  
Daniel started towards the door, amazed that his feet touched the floor at all, that he was not floating close to the ceiling. But he had to go. He had to leave. As he turned the door handle and hurried from the room, he turned back only once.

  
“Goodbye...” he half-gasped.

  
Then-the door banged shut behind him. 


	8. Sobriety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for reading <3 much, much love to all, and for the comments and kudos too! You guys really are the best. I shan't keep you for a moment longer. 
> 
> More tomorrow! Xxx

Over the next couple of days, Daniel changed his routine quite drastically. Before, when he had a free moment, he would roam the corridors of Ridingstone Hall, hoping desperately for a glimpse of his Philip. In light of their new closeness, Daniel had originally thought that he would see him ever more frequently, and this had pleased him greatly. However; following the final act of the scene in Philip’s chamber...in his spare time, he would keep to himself, often staying in his little bedroom for full evenings. He would read furiously by candlelight, hidden away from the world-and in no danger of seeing Philip.

  
It was not that he no longer loved him-entirely the opposite. He loved him more desperately than ever. But that was precisely why he must keep away, lest they be alone together again, and another...situation...presented itself. Daniel could not take that risk again. Both of them would be ruined. Besides-he did not think his heart nor soul could cope. It had been too much, far too much...and this had to be the end of the matter.

  
This did not mean that he did not miss him. He did so, most dreadfully. But it had to be so...no matter how Daniel ached, pined and hurt. It had to be so. After all, what was he to do if he lost his position? How could he get another without reference? He would be finished...Daniel had to make for himself a fortress, a wall around his heart. No matter how much he wanted Philip, he was as untouchable as the moon. Daniel had to remember that.

  
Life went on.

  
As August drew nearer, so did Master Laurence’s first term at Harrow the following September. Daniel was more than confident that his student would be amply prepared for the coming academic year. His mathematics were much improved, his History textbook-perfect, his Latin as good as any public schoolboy. Still, as Daniel had the boy recite vocabulary whilst running around the classroom, throwing and catching balls, he wondered how he would dare whilst sat still in a classroom. It was more than clear to anyone that Master Laurence learned best while on the move, but he doubted whether such allowances would be made for him at school...hopefully, the theory would stay with him, and the boy would do well.

  
“Well done,” Daniel managed a limp smile as the lesson ended. “You are doing so well.”

  
Laurence grinned broadly at him, throwing the cricket ball into the air and catching it again in one hand. “It is funny. When I am training now, every time I hit the ball, I think of boring old Latin vocab.”

  
Daniel laughed. “I am glad that cricket is such a good revision tool.”

  
“And revision has become reasonable training,” Laurence replied, throwing the ball again. “My hand-eye coordination is better than ever. Papa says it will be a crime if I do not make the first team now.”

  
“I am glad to hear it,” Daniel felt proud of his student-and of himself. “Now, run and have some lunch.”

  
“Oh, definitely! It is steak and kidney pie today!” Laurence said enthusiastically, making for the door. “Good afternoon, Mr Howell!”

  
“Good afternoon,” Daniel waved him from the room, before collecting his books into a pile on the desk. Some pie would be more than welcome if he could get it-Rebecca had such a light touch with pastry. He would head down to the kitchen now.

  
Throwing his jacket over his shoulder, he strode out into the corridor-

  
“Daniel! There you are.”

  
Daniel started-and, as if surprised by enemy soldiers, the wall around his heart simply crumbled away.

  
There, leaning against the wall opposite the schoolroom and dressed in black, was Philip. His hair looked unkempt, as if he had been tossing and turning all night on it, and his eyes were very wide. He looked as if he had been standing there for a while.

  
“How are you?” he asked, with deliberate casualness. “See you, Laurie!” he called after his younger brother-never taking his eyes away from Daniel.

  
Daniel was more than caught off-guard. Never had he seen Philip in this part of the house before. It seemed that, rather than Daniel searching the house for Philip, Philip had taken his place.

  
Despite the rush that seeing him always brought-a pang of fear hit Daniel as he looked at the man he loved, who still occupied almost every waking thought, who was the son of his employers, whom, last week, he had almost kissed...

  
It seemed, however, that Philip was thinking along the same lines.

  
“G-good afternoon, Mr Lester.” stammered Daniel, carefully impersonal, as Laurence disappeared around the corner. He could hear his footsteps as he raced down the stairs. Hoping to follow him, Daniel nodded politely and made to go, wanting only to escape, to end the torture of being so close to the man he could not touch-

  
“ _Please_.” Philip reached out a hand and took Daniel gently, but firmly, by the arm. He spoke very quietly, in case Laurence was still in earshot. “I beg just a moment of your time. I must speak to you.”

  
Daniel sighed, his heart thumping in his chest. Oh goodness. Whatever was there to say? But the man looked as if he might die if he did not unburden himself. The only comfort was that Philip looked every bit as nervous as Daniel felt. His throat utterly choked with emotion, he could not speak as he looked into the eyes of his own dear Philip...and so, he merely nodded, then stepped back into the classroom, holding the door open so that Philip could follow through. Then, once they were both inside, he closed it behind them.

  
There was a silence as the lock clicked into place. Both young men stared at one another. Daniel felt rather ill-but, he noticed, Philip looked positively green. Those dark purple circles had reappeared under his eyes-and he looked horribly guilty, as if he had committed some terrible crime.

  
“I’m sorry to spring on you like this, Daniel,” rushed Philip. “I had been hoping to speak to you for days now, but you had disappeared off the face of the Earth! I was worried-I even asked Flavia if you were still here!” He gave Daniel a sort of strangled look. “I was _terrified_ you might have left.”

  
“Left?” Daniel asked, blinking in confusion. “Where would I go?”

  
“I thought...” And here, he lowered his voice. “I thought you might have left...because of what I did.” Suddenly-his face fell with crippling shame. “Oh, Daniel, I am so sorry! No wonder you have been avoiding me. I have behaved appallingly.”

  
Daniel was more bemused than ever-and worry was beginning to bite at him. “What do you mean?”

  
Philip coughed. He gave Daniel a searching look-then took several steps away from him. Facing out of the window, and, in a low voice, he spoke. “I put you in a terrible position. Took you into my private chamber, confessed things to you, and...took _liberties_ ,” Here, Philip made a face of complete disgust. Daniel could not see, for his back was turned-but he could hear it plainly in his voice. “I am tormented. I can never forgive myself.”

  
“ _Liberties_?” Daniel asked-half-knowing, and half-dreading the answer.

  
“When I almost ki-“

  
_“Yes, Yes_!” Daniel interrupted him, feeling his cheeks burn. “I understand! But...why are you sorry?”

  
Philip made a small sound of disbelief, before his voice took on a slightly more hysterical edge. “Because it was a total abuse of my position! Oh God, I’d hate for you to think of me as some awful predatory chancer taking advantage of staff! I am so sorry, Daniel. I never meant to offend you, I swear it. I would never do anything to hurt you, _never_.” He paused, and swallowed hard-before his voice became very thick. It was almost as if he was holding back tears. “Now that I have cleared the air, if you would have it, you need never see me again.”

  
Daniel took no more than a second to absorb what Philip was suggesting-then:

  
“ _No_!” he cried out. “I was not offended! You have it completely wrong! Oh, Mr Lester, please, you must not hate yourself! I cannot bear it!” The thought of the man he loved in such torment almost brought him to tears.

  
Philip stirred, jerked out of his misery. He seemed about to turn around-but then did not. “Then why did you flee from me? Why have you been avoiding me?”

  
“Because...” Daniel began, his heart cold with fear. “Because...” He could not say it. He could not, he could not-

  
“Why?” Mr Lester asked again-sounding more broken than ever. “ _Please_ , Daniel. I cannot bear the thought that I have hurt you in any way. I care about you far too much. You _must_ tell me why.”

  
He had to.

  
“I have been avoiding you because...” Daniel took a deep breath-as if it was his last. “Because, after what happened between us, I knew that I had to stay away. Things were already complicated enough. And...” The tears were close. So close. Then-like a waterfall-the words poured from his lips. “And-after everything that happened-I could not bear to see you! I was so frightened-but please, if there is anyone to blame, it is me! Do not hate yourself, I beg you. I care far too much about you to watch you suffer because of my stupidity!”

  
A deafening silence.

  
Daniel’s eyes were as full as his heart. He blinked, and a tear rolled down his cheek. _Oh God_. He had ruined everything.

  
Philip was as still as a statue.

  
Then, slowly...he turned around to face him.

  
Daniel looked quickly to the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

  
“ _Your_ fault?” Philip’s voice was hardly more than a breath. “When we almost... _your_ fault? Do you mean...?” He swallowed hard-then forced himself to continue. “Do you mean that...you wanted it to happen too?”

  
Daniel could not speak as more tears fell.

  
But he did not need to.

  
Daniel stood, staring at the floorboards of the schoolroom, his vision blurred with wetness. Through the silence, his secret rang out loud and as clear as church bells. He wished that the ground would open beneath his feet, and for Hell itself to swallow him down. Everything, everything was ruined...

  
He could feel Philip staring wordlessly at him-and his hand flew to his mouth to suppress a sob.

  
But...by some cosmic or heavenly miracle, some incredible force of nature-the sob seemed to shake Philip Lester from his catatonic state. Before Daniel knew where he was-Philip had raced across the room, and came to a halt in front of him. Then-suddenly-Daniel found himself enfolded in warm, loving arms.

  
“Oh, Daniel...oh you poor, sweet darling...please don’t cry...”

  
The embrace. The sweet, gentle words. Daniel’s tears fell but faster.

  
“Come on...” Philip spoke more gently to him than he had ever heard anyone speak in his life, comforting him as if he was as breakable as glass. “Shh, shh...its alright...come on.”

  
Daniel could not believe what was happening. Somehow, though he did not recall moving a single muscle-Philip had lead him over to the desk, where he say him down carefully in the chair. Still holding him close, as if to keep him from shattering-Philip knelt before him.

  
“Don’t cry...” So gently, and with such care, Philip wiped the tears from Daniel’s cheeks with the cuff of his shirt. “There now...it's alright...”

  
Somehow, in his state of shock, Daniel managed to arrange words on his lips. “It...it’s _not_ alright...”

  
“Yes it _is._ ” said Philip, his voice growing stronger by the moment. He softly brushed a new tear away. “If it is the last thing I do, I will make damn sure that everything will be alright.” He paused. Then, so gently-he cupped Daniel’s face in his hands, and made him look straight into those electric blue eyes. “Daniel, I must tell you something. I have wanted to tell you almost since the moment we met. But so many things were keeping me from doing so. You understand.”

  
Breathless, and shaking from his tears, Daniel nodded.

  
“When I confessed to you that I could not take to Miss Carolina, I left out a piece of information. I hope that you can forgive me for not telling you the whole truth. But now, I will be fully honest.”

  
Daniel could scarcely believe that he was not dreaming.

  
“Daniel...” Philip’s eyes were absolute. “I cannot possibly love Miss Carolina...because of late I have fallen quite irresponsibly, but very much completely...for someone else.”

  
A pause. The longest of Daniel’s life.

  
“It is not Miss Carolina I want. It is _you_.”

  
Daniel covered his mouth firmly-but he could not help but let a small noise escape. It was half a moan, and half a cry.

  
“ _Daniel_ ,” Philip took his hands in his own, and held on tightly. “I must know. Do you feel the same way for me as I do for you?”

  
Finally, at the eleventh hour of this day-Daniel found his voice. “Oh...Mr Lester-“

  
“Philip, _please_.” he murmured, holding him tighter.

  
“ _Philip_...” Daniel whispered, his voice half a gasp. “...I think you know that I do!” A small gasping breath. “I have.. _always_...”

  
But he did not need to say another word. For, at that moment, Philip caught him in his arms and held on, holding him closer than Daniel had ever been held before. He let himself melt completely into the man he loved, burying his face in his shoulder, the last of his tears dampening the material. He did not know, nor did he care, how long the embrace lasted. It could have been hours, or several days, even an eternity could have passed, and neither one of them would have noticed. It only mattered that they could finally, finally, with no secrets, no hidden thoughts between them, hold and be held.

  
After a time, the embrace somehow broke. Neither knew who had broken it-but the moment Daniel looked into Philip’s eyes, he knew that, no matter what, no matter how wrong this was in the eyes of the world...none of it mattered. And everything, _everything_ , was going to be alright...

  
Suddenly-a small laugh bubbled out of Philip. It was a sound of pure joy, a release of a feeling that no words could do justice to. And Daniel, though still sodden with his tears, could not help but smile back. Still, her scarcely believed that he was awake.

  
“Well...” Philip shook his head, trying like Daniel to process all that had changed in the last few minutes. Their lives would never be the same...but perhaps they would be better than either had ever imagined they could be. And Philip was beaming for it. When he smiled, he truly was as warm and bright as the sun...

 _“Well._..” he repeated, rubbing his eyes as if he had just awoken from a long sleep. There was everything, and nothing, left to say. Except...

“...Shall we have a cup of tea?”

 


	9. Teacups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you so, so much for reading! I have not had a lot of time today, so enjoy some fluff! 
> 
> Thank you for all of the comments and kudos too. Much love <3 More tomorrow! xxx

 “…just leave the tray on the windowsill, if you would be so kind-ah, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much, Gladys.”

 After setting down the tea-tray with a clink of china, Daniel listened carefully from his hiding place behind the drawn curtains of Philip’s four-poster bed for the kitchen maid’s footsteps. He waited until he heard the door clunk shut, before- “Is she gone?”

 “Yes, yes. You can come out now!” Philip called, a slight giggle in his voice. No matter the weight of the risk, even Daniel had to admit that hiding behind curtains from maids was delightfully farcical. And, just this once, Daniel did not want to consider any kind of risk on such a momentous day. With a shy smile, he emerged to find Philip carefully pouring two cups from an attractive scarlet-patterned white teapot. After adding milk from a little jug, he picked up one cup and offered it to Daniel.

 “Thank you.” said Daniel gratefully, warming his hands on the sides of the teacup. He sat down beside Philip on the window-seat, and took a sip. “Mmm! This is delicious!”

 “Oh, goodness Daniel, it is only tea!” Philip chuckled fondly at him. “You are so sweet…”

 “Yes, but I am certain that it is different to what we have in the kitchen!” Daniel looked down into the dark brown liquid, trying to sense the irregularity.

 “Ah! You’d have Chinese tea downstairs,” said Philip casually. “This is Indian tea.”

 Daniel paused-then understood. Of course. Indian tea was much more expensive. As he took another sip, he wondered how much more this cup of tea cost compared to the one he had drank with his breakfast…then felt uncommonly foolish. How on Earth was it that they could be speaking of something as trivial as tea at a time like this, on such an extraordinary day? Fortunately, Philip seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he caught his eye.

 “This is terribly British.” he said, and Daniel giggled. “Tea is always the appropriate response.”

 “Yes,” Daniel agreed. “My aunts used to make a pot of tea whenever anyone was upset. And when they were happy. Or angry. Or anything really.” He paused-then spluttered, feeling silly again. “Oh, look at me rabbiting on about nothing! I’m sorry.”

 “Not at all,” Philip assured him, amused again. But his eyes were very soft. “Everything you say is simply delightful, and I want to hear every word.”

 Daniel felt himself blushing. “Oh!” he said, taking another sip of tea to avoid having to acknowledge the compliment. He felt rather smothered-but in the best possible way. Never in his life had he been looked at, or spoken to, in the way that Philip did.

 If anything, the awkward embarrassment only made Philip laugh more. “Oh, you dear thing!” He shook his head fondly. “Please, you can _relax_. You are not on trial, you know.”

 Daniel giggled nervously-Philip had such a contagious laugh. “I cannot help but feel strange…” He gave a small sigh, looking down into the tea. “Just half an hour ago I was going through Latin vocabulary with Master Laurence, and I was certain I would never speak to you again. And now…oh goodness, I do not know whether I am coming or going!”

 “Strange indeed,” Philip said indulgently. “But you really need not worry. There is neither coming, nor going. There is simply you, I, and this pot of tea. That is all you need to concern yourself with at this moment.”

 Daniel smiled. “It is a lovely teapot.”

 “Isn’t it?” Philip took another sip of tea, and let that comfortable silence they had known before descend around the room. Outside the window, the sun was fading, and the sky was turning a grisly white-grey colour with thick cloud. Daniel watched, his teacup warming his hands and the person he cared for most in the world by his side, as the afternoon grew more miserable by the moment.

 “I think it is going to rain…” he said quietly, to a nod of agreement from Philip. Then, as the sky darkened above them, he suddenly remembered. “Oh, Philip, I did mean to thank you! I had completely forgotten!”

 “Thank me? What for?”

 “For standing up for me,” Daniel said, shuffling closer and looking up at Philip with such adoration. “When Miss Carolina called me “common” and “muck”. The first night she arrived.”

 Philip thought for a long moment-then, a sharp intake of recognition. “Oh! Yes, I do recall now.” He grinned-then frowned. “But how did you know? I am sure you were not there…you played the piano, then you left. I remember how very sad you looked…”

 “I remember how sad _you_ looked!” Daniel exclaimed. “I felt awful for you, stuck in there.”

 “I felt awful for _you_ , you looked so dismal!” The two young men shared a laugh, thinking now upon how very obvious it had been from the beginning that they had feelings for one another...how ridiculous that they had waited for this long. Now, Daniel needed to make the most of every single moment. “But how do you know what Carolina said?”

 Daniel gave a guilty smile. “Flavia told me in her lesson the next day.”

 Philip stared-then spluttered. “Oh, that girl! She is so cheeky!” But he looked delighted. “Imagine her telling you something like that! I hope you were not too offended, though,” he said, more seriously. “It was a dreadful thing for Carolina to say about you.” 

 “Not at all,” said Daniel. “Flavia did not even know what it meant. Anyway…” And here, once again, he looked bashful. “…It did not matter in the slightest once I knew that you had defended me…It was so extraordinarily sweet of you.”

 Now, it was Philip’s turn to look embarrassed-really, this time. “It wasn’t really. It was just decency, that’s all…” But, in spite of himself, he did look pleased. “Still, as much as I say that defending one’s friends from _outrageous_ snobs should be no less than expected, I cannot help but be delighted that you thought me sweet for doing it,” He grinned guiltily. “Perhaps I am not as much of a good person as I thought.”

 “Of course you are.” Daniel said-and saw Philip’s hand resting on his knee. Daring himself, he reached out-and covered it with his own. “You are a terrific person. My _favourite_ person, in fact…”

 Philip looked down at their hands for a moment, and made a small sound of disbelief. Then-he linked his fingers through Daniel’s. “You are certainly my favourite…” he murmured, squeezing his hand. Daniel felt his heart swell-it was a wonderful feeling to hold the hand of the man he loved, and even more wonderful to feel how perfectly their hands fitted together, like pieces of a jigsaw…

 “How perfect this is…” he whispered, almost close to tears. “Oh, Philip, I am so _happy_ …”

 “And I…I struggle to recall a time when I was happier than I am right now…” Philip gave a strange laugh, looking down-before meeting Daniel’s eyes once again. Philip's eyes were so beautiful, Daniel felt that he could look into them for hours and still not see every single colour…but as he looked, he realised something. He did not think it was a deliberate thing, but suddenly, he felt much closer to him than he had before. Not only spiritually-but physically. The strange backflips his heart was doing were exactly those they had done earlier that week, when they had almost kissed…only now, it was much, much stronger…

 Daniel was scared. But, as he felt the space in between them growing smaller and smaller once again, as he was drawn by some supernatural force towards him…he did not think he had any sort of power to resist. Besides, he found…he did not _want_ to. And now…there was no reason not to. In this bed chamber, on this window seat, he was moments away from his first kiss…and it would be shared with the man he loved more than anything…Daniel felt a shiver of pleasure course through his entire body as he looked into Philip’s eyes…and found that his own were half-closed. Oh _goodness_ …but it was alright. Everything was alright, Philip had promised it would be…he just had to relax. There was no rush. They had all the time in the…

 “Oh!” With a cry of surprise, Daniel leapt back from Philip in terror, their hands ripped apart.

 “What?” Philip seemed to have been in quite as deep a trace as Daniel, and was quite shocked at its abrupt break. “What’s wrong?”

 “ _Time_!” Daniel had sprung to his feet, running his hands through his curls-as rain began to fall thick and fast outside, the drops hitting the windowpane like the ticking of a clock. “Flavia’s lesson! Oh goodness, I am going to be _late_!”

 “Oh!” Philip shook his head a little, as if he had just surfaced from water. “Of course…” But, with a guilty smile, he reached out and took Daniel’s hand once again. “As much as I care about my sister’s education, I am loathed to let you go. I wish that you could stay here, with me.”

 Daniel felt strongly that he should run back to the school room-but he could not help holding onto Philip’s hand for a moment. “I wish I could stay too…When can I see you again?”

 “Straight after you are finished teaching,” said Philip, squeezing his hand. “Promise you’ll come right back here.”

 “I promise,” Daniel said. “I promise, darling. But I must go now.”

 “I know…” said Philip, sadness in his eyes…but he nodded manfully, getting to his feet. “Oh goodness, I feel such an old sap for saying so, but how awful it is to say goodbye! I feel as if we have not had enough time, since…well, since _everything_.” He gave a small smile.

 “I know…” Daniel found himself taking Philip’s other hand in his own. “I feel as if much more needed to be said…I have so much that I want to say to you, and yet I can hardly find any words at all to say so! How foolish I am…”

 “You are not foolish, darling.” said Philip. Then, suddenly-he took a step towards him. “However, if I might be permitted to be the fool for a moment…” Carefully-he lent upwards and in. Daniel could feel his warm breath on his cheek. “I should very much like, in my own way, to say goodbye…for now.”

 Daniel could not think as the lightest, sweetest kiss landed on his cheek. It was so gentle and so, so sweet that he almost burst into tears again. A dizzy happiness filled him, a typhoon of joy that almost knocked him off his feet-but Philip held his hands tightly, keeping him from falling. And when it was over-Daniel could not stop beaming. It was so simple, and so perfect…

 “Those dimples…” Philip murmured, stroking his cheek with one finger. It seemed that he could not stop smiling either. “I shall never get over how adorable they are…how adorable _you_ are…” He paused for a moment, and sighed. “Oh, darling, it is near impossible to let you go…”

 Daniel could not speak, for his throat was completely choked with emotion. But, as he had just been shown…words were often completely unnecessary.

 “ _Go_ ,” Philip said, gently letting his hands fall. His eyes were shining, brighter than the window in the rain outside. “And hurry back to me.”

 Nothing could possibly have kept him away. As Daniel raced through the household towards the schoolroom, still feeling Philip’s kiss on his cheek, he felt as if he was floating high amongst the clouds...


	10. The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all <3 Thank you endlessly for reading. Sorry the post is so late today! I will be better tomorrow xxx  
> And thank you so much as always for all the comments and kudos. So much love to you! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! More tomorrow xxx

The rain continued into the next week. Huge puddles began to appear on the front lawn, resembling tiny lakes, even more so as small birds began to drink and bathe in them. Such downpour pleasantly broke the heat and humidity of the hot summer, but soon, it became quite frustrating to look out of the window and see nothing but grey skies and droplets. The pond in the lily garden had risen considerably, and was all but on the verge of bursting its banks.

 Master Laurence was bored and frustrated, for the inclement weather had curbed his cricket training. He could be found throwing balls and swinging bats in the house instead-in the entrance hall, his chamber, even in the grand living room. But after one particular swing had broken a Chinese urn in the drawing room, the mistress had all but broken another with shouting at the boy. Following this incident, Laurence was officially on a ban. However, the master, reluctant to allow his cricket skills to slip, had started to leave his private study unlocked, and seemingly turned a blind eye when the boy crept inside with bats and balls.

 Still, Daniel thought-a second Great Flood could have occurred, the entire world under cover of rain-and it would never have dampened his spirits.

 Every day, when Daniel had finished teaching, he would take his evening meal early. Once he had finished, he would sneak through the house, and, once he was certain he was unobserved, he would knock quietly upon the door of Philip’s chamber. Moments later, once the door was swung open and Philip’s smiling face greeted him, all was warm and sunny in the world. They spent every evening together, talking, laughing, and simply enjoying one another’s company. The more Daniel got to know him, as they watched the rain fall outside, the more he fell in love with him. There was no other way to say it-it was as if they were two halves of the same person, perfectly complimentary, bringing out the best aspects of one another, and making the worst seem insignificant. Philip made him feel so safe, so cared for, and never anything less than his equal in every way. It was easy for Daniel to forget their difference in position in the real world, or what would happen if they were caught…

 “What was that?” Daniel hissed once, hearing footsteps outside. His entire body tensed.

 “Shh, darling,” Philip soothed him, taking his hand once again and stroking it gently. “Even if anyone was going to come in, they would have to knock,” He gave a cheeky half-smile, and raised an eyebrow. “Plenty of time to shove you under the bed.”

 Daniel had giggled quietly-but still, his heart was thumping in his chest.

 Moments like this were becoming less and less. Daniel had began to think of Philip’s chamber as not the private bedroom of his mistress’ son, but as a sanctuary from the world, a place where he could be entirely himself, and beside the man he loved. Everything seemed perfect…

 But one day, on a particularly rainy Wednesday, when Daniel knocked on Philip’s door, his eyes misted with love and excitement-there was no answer.

 Daniel frowned. He knocked again.

 Silence.

* * *

 

 Daniel did not know this, but earlier that afternoon, Philip had made a startling discovery.

 It was certainly dishonest of Philip to enter his step-father’s private study without permission. Even if Laurence was currently using it as a temporary training ground, it was still deceitful.

 But Laurence had left the door wide open.

 He had only meant to look around. Philip had never been inside. Alfred had explicitly banned him from the place as a child, and he had never broken this rule. However-curiosity had proven too much, and, after checking to see if the corridor was deserted-he ducked inside, closing the door behind him.

 It had been as he expected. Oaken walls, a small fireplace, above which hung the head of a large stag. Philip had winced slightly as he looked up at the poor creature. He had never liked the stuffed birds that graced every corner of the house-he had been quite frightened of them as a small child. Now, of course, he knew there was nothing to be feared. It merely saddened him to see animals, who had been hunted and shot, displayed like Chinese urns.

 There was a large desk in the centre of the room, on which lay several spent candles, two large pens and a huge pile of official-looking papers and letters, and behind which sat a huge and squashy burgundy chair. Philip had felt a surge of guilt-but childish mischief had gotten the best of him. With a final glance at the door to check that it was still closed-he skirted around the desk and sat down in the chair.

 It was every bit as comfortable as it looked. Philip could not help but enjoy himself as he sat at the desk. This was so juvenile-but he knew that the story would make Daniel laugh when he hold him later…as was habitual, as he thought of his beloved Daniel, it was as if a blanket had been wrapped around his heart, warming it in the most wonderful way. He adored him, adored everything he was and everything he did. It was as if Daniel had picked him up, blown the dust off of him and brought him back to life…everything was beautiful again. Just holding his hand, listening to him talk, making him laugh, embracing him when he arrived in his chamber, and shyly kissing his cheek goodnight when he left…it was more than he could have ever asked for. To have such a remarkable person as his own, falling more in love with him every day, hearing him say, in that sweet, precise voice- “ _Philip_ ”-

 Wait.

 _Philip_.

 Directly in front of him on the desk, the ink barely dry-there was a letter. A letter in Alfred’s hand.

 Nothing unusual about that. A letter in his step-father’s hand was absolutely in its proper place on his writing desk. There had been no reason for Philip to pay any more mind to it than to any of the other documents piled up on the desk. Only-there was one irregularity.

 It was signed _Philip_.

 Philip blinked, too bemused to react for a long moment. Then-he sprung into action. His hands shot out and grabbed the letter, reading it over quickly. And what he saw was…revolting.

  _Dearest Carolina,_

_I hope this letter finds you as well as it finds me._

_I am writing to you of a most important matter. Our friendship over the past year has grown and blossomed, and I hope that you feel as satisfied with it as I do. I praise the day that my dear mother and father introduced me to your own dear mother, and then to you._

_As I am sure you are aware, it is in both of our interests that we become engaged. I am writing to formally ask you to marry me._

_I hope that you are not dissuaded by my sending this in writing, but as I am sure you have realised, I am rather shy in such matters. Still, it has been far, far too long, and I do not mean to keep you or your family waiting a day longer._

_I eagerly await your response._

_All my love_

_Philip_

_Philip could not breathe._

X X X

 “How _could_ you!” Philip cried. So rarely was it that he ever raised his voice, his throat cracked. But there was no doubting his meaning. “How could you attempt to put words in my mouth! How could you forge such a letter in my name? I cannot believe it of you! I have no words!”  

 Alfred hardly reacted. He leaned back on the green couch in the drawing room, taking a slow sip from the whiskey glass in his hand. At the opposite end of the drawing room-Emmeline sat in an armchair by the fireplace. Philip could not see her face, for it was covered by both of her hands, her elbows propped in her lap. She had not looked up since Philip had put the accusation to his step-father-and Alfred had not denied it. It seemed that she wouldn’t-or couldn’t-look at her husband.

 “Do not take such a tone with me.” said Alfred, his voice softly dangerous. He took another sip of whiskey. “And you know that you are barred from entering my private study.”

 “Do not talk to me like I am a child!” Philip’s cheeks were hot with rage. “How dare you attempt to sell me like an ox to the Whittakers! I will not marry Carolina! I will not marry anyone, and certainly not under false pretences and entirely against my will!”

 Alfred said nothing. He took yet another sip of whiskey. The danger in his calm demeanour was not lost on Philip-but in his fury, it merely infuriated him. “I cannot believe that you could be so conniving, so devious, capable of such counterfeit! I am only grateful to God that I found the letter before it was too late!” He took a deep breath. “I demand that you destroy it!”

 Alfred did not move. He simply stared rather oddly at Philip, as if he was a mewling baby who refused to be pacified. A final sip of whiskey, draining the glass, and he glanced at the large oaken doors, which were carved with a songbird in flight. Waiting. Waiting.

 Seconds later-a knock.

 “Mr Lester.” Mr Laurel, the butler, had appeared at the door. Philip knew him not only by the sound of hid voice but the characteristic squeak of his highly-polished shoes. He was panting slightly, as if he had just come out of a great hurry. “I have-“

 “ _Thank you_ ,” Alfred cut him off, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. “That will be all, Laurel.”

 The door banged shut.

 There was silence for a moment. Then-Alfred finally spoke.

 “I cannot,” he said quietly. Getting to his feet, he made his way over to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself another glass. A large measure. He took a long drink, seeming to enjoy the whiskey even more than usual. Looking at neither Philip, nor his wife-he swallowed. “It has been sent.”

 

* * *

 

 Daniel stepped back from the door. He was confused, and even a little hurt-Philip had never let him down before now.

 Daring himself, he took the handle of the door in both of his own, and turned it until the door opened. Pushing on the white-painted wood, slowly, he revealed the wholly empty room. The window-seat was empty, the bed perfectly made, the whole place as silent as the grave.

 Where was Philip? Daniel stepped into the room, as if he might have missed him standing in a corner or something. He looked all around, becoming more desperate by the moment. “Philip?” he called, feeling rather foolish. But still-his call merely echoed back to him. Still, there was no sign of life.

 Feeling rather dazed, Daniel wandered over to the window, largely out of habit. Perhaps Philip was in the library, or at dinner, or-

 At that moment-something caught Daniel’s eye.

 As he peered through the window, looking past the slug-trails of rain on the glass and the water drops still bouncing from the sill-he spotted a tall figure, dressed in a long coat, with a head of increasingly wet black hair, walking at quite a pace towards the formal gardens.

 X X X

 “ _Philip! Philip!_ ” Daniel cried out as he ran through the rain, his feet squelching on the paving stones as he ducked under the hedge-archway into the lily garden. He loathed running more than anything, in fact any physical exercise disagreed with him-but now, he hardly cared. The rain was freezing cold, soaking him through, as he had been in such an anxious rush that he had not thought to put on a coat. He could feel his curls springing up ever more on his head in the wet, but nothing mattered now, except finding-

 “ _Philip_!” There he was. Standing by the lily pond, the high water inches from his shoes. At the sound of Daniel’s voice, he turned around. Wind whipped through his hair, spray from the water showering him as he stared. He was still for a moment, like a strange sort of statue. Then-his face collapsed.

 “Oh, Daniel…”

 Daniel ran to him, his shoes slipping on the muddy grass. The moment he could reach-he threw his arms around him, cold, wet-but desperate. “Are you _insane_? What on Earth are you doing out here?” he cried, as the wind grew louder. Beyond the distant hills, there was the faint sound of thunder. A storm was beginning.

 “I…” Philip could not speak. He could only hold Daniel tighter as the rain soaked them through.

 “Come inside!” Daniel begged him. “You are going to catch your death!”

 Philip was silent for a long moment as the wind howled through the branches of the willow tree. Then- “No…” he whispered. “No…it is not over…you said it yourself, darling…there is always something to be done… _always_ something…”

 “You aren’t making any sense!” Daniel tried to take his hands, to lead him back to the Hall. “Please, darling, you _must_ come inside! Come inside, and tell me what is wrong!”  

 “…Daniel…” Philip murmured, snatching away-and wrapping his arms tightly around Daniel once more. “Everything is going to be alright. I promised you, and I will keep that promise!” He sighed heavily-then cupped Daniel’s face in his hands. “I will not let anything tear us apart! I will keep that promise until the day that I die!” He paused-then, as easy as rainfall, it came. “Daniel, I love you!”

 Despite the chaos around them, the madness, the cold and the wet-Daniel felt as if he was bathed in sunlight.

 “I love you…” Philip repeated, stroking his cheeks. Despite his obvious anguish and devastatingly sad eyes-he smiled. “I love you…”

 “I…” Daniel was completely choked. He could hardly form a single sentence on his numb lips. But still-the words were easy, and, in a world of lies, nothing was ever more true. “Oh Philip…I…I love you too!”

 Philip did not wait a moment longer. He pulled Daniel as close to him as he could, rain falling down on them harder than ever. Over the hills, thunder cracked like a thousand drums. Then, with fierce desperation, and yet such gentleness and love-Philip’s lips met Daniel’s. As the storm brewed around them, and back inside the hall-in the lily garden, they shared their first kiss.


	11. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, you fabulous people <3 Much, much love. Sorry for another late-night post! Promise I will post at a more sociable hour tomorrow. And as always, thank you so much for commenting and leaving kudos <3 
> 
> More tomorrow! Enjoy xxx

Sometime around midnight, the storm had broken. The rain had stopped, leaving the yellow sandstone of Ridingstone Hall glowing in the damp morning light, as if and enormous sponge had wiped it clean. The puddles began to dry up, the mud solidifying as the summer sun broke once again through the clouds. Everything seemed to be shining once again.

 “Mama says I mustn’t go out for cricket today, as the mud will ruin my shoes,” Laurence said, his feet bouncing on the floor beneath his desk. “But Papa says she is being ridiculous. _I_ don’t mind in the slightest if I get muddy!”

“Mmm...” Daniel said, souring at any talk of Mr Alfred Lester...before ducking down and coughing hugely into his handkerchief.

Master Laurence watched his tutor awkwardly as his coughing fit ended. “Not ill are you?” he asked, sliding his chair back a few inches. Nothing was going to stop him from playing cricket.

“N-no, no!” Daniel croaked insistently, rubbing his chest with one hand while pocketing his handkerchief with the other. He dropped his voice to a whisper, sitting down heavily in his chair. “I’m quite alright. Shall we begin?”

 It was a lie. Daniel was not alright. Last night, he had been aghast as Philip told him what his stepfather had done. He could not believe that anyone could be so dishonest, like a snake in the grass...it had almost, _almost_ ruined what should have been the most wonderful evening of his life...over and over again in his head, he replayed it: _I love you...I love you_... His heart leapt even to think of it...But after those words of purest truth and honesty, to hear of such lies and deceit...his poor Philip...but, as they had warmed themselves and dried off by the fire in Philip’s chamber, Daniel had been resolute. This was not the end. Phillip would have to marry Carolina over his dead body. He knew that there was something to be done to avoid this fate. There was always something to be done.

 However, thing began to go wrong for Daniel after they had kissed goodnight. Philip slept in a bedroom heated by fire and in a bed warmed by thick curtains and warming pans. Daniel however, after getting soaked through, had to return to his chilly little chamber with nothing but his blankets. And, in the morning, he had awakened aching all over, to pains in his chest, a raw throat, and a terrible cough.

 The cold and wet had gone to his bones, he knew. But he could not stop-he had to work. And so, after drinking three cups of tea this morning, he had dragged himself to the school room. He could _not_ get sick. He simply could not. But, as the lesson ran on, Daniel could feel himself growing weaker. The pain was worse, and his bones were beginning to ache more and more. Talking was sandpaper in his throat, and his head was hurting…he kept to his chair and moved as little as possible.

 “Good afternoon, sir!” Master Laurence called when the ordeal finally ended. He raced from the room, obviously desperate to get outside in the sunshine, and banged the door hard behind him. Daniel winced at the noise, rubbing his head. Oh goodness…he needed a cup of tea. But the thought of walking all the way to the kitchen was almost more effort than it was worth. He was so _exhausted_ …and, somehow-he still felt cold. It was as if he had not properly warmed up since the previous night…

 A knock at the door.

 “Y-yes!” he called, trying not to sound as if he was gasping.

 The door swung open, and Philip appeared. He looked carefully around the classroom to check it was completely deserted, before closing the door carefully behind him.

 “Hello,” he smiled, bravely. There were bags under his eyes again, but he looked at lot better than Daniel felt. At once, he hurried to Daniel’s chair and threw his arms around him, kissing his curls. “Oh, I don’t know what I would have done without you last night. I cannot thank you enough for your support. No matter what, you always make everything seem better, even when it is as dire as it is now…”

 Daniel leaned against him weakly, closing his eyes. “Of course…” he whispered.

 “I know that you are right. I can easily prove the letter to be a forgery, so there’s that…but I’m not sure how to proceed beyond. After all, Carolina will have told everyone that we are “engaged”-she and her family will fight this at every corner to avoid the embarrassment of admitting that the “engagement” is off…oh, darling I am so _stressed_ …” He rested his cheek on Daniel’s hair and groaned.

 Daniel nodded, patting his back understandingly. “We’ll manage…” he croaked. “It will be alright…”

 At this-Philip suddenly drew back. He studied Daniel’s pale face, his tired eyes empty of any shine… “Wait. What’s wrong?”

 “N-nothing-“ Daniel tried-but as he spoke, he had to turn his head from Philip to cough into his elbow.

 “Darling?” Philip cupped his face in his hands.

 It was no use trying to lie to him. Daniel knew that he looked as sick as a dog. “Oh…it’s nothing really. I…I’ve just a little headache, that’s all…and…and my chest is a bit…but I really am alright!”

 Philip was having none of it. He pressed his lips to Daniel’s forehead to feel for a temperature. “You’re really ill…and your chest? Should I send for a doctor?”

 “Don’t be silly…” Daniel said, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Besides, it is not as if I could afford…but I’m alright, really I am. It’s just…just after the cold yesterday evening…I haven’t been quite right since…”  The moment he said these words-he wished he had not.

 “…It’s my fault.” Philip’s voice sounded echoing and empty.

 “No!” Daniel tried to cry out-but it stopped in his throat and came out as a wheeze.

 “You would never have gone out in that wretched storm were it not for me being so foolish!” Philip was so wracked with guilt that he looked as if he might cry. “And now the cold has made you ill! Oh, Daniel, I am so sorry!”

 “…nothing…to be sorry for…” Daniel insisted, the best he could. “Please…don’t…I can’t bear it…”

 “Come here,” Philip held him close, sighing hard. “I am so, so sorry…But I’m going to take care of you now.” he said, with resolution. “Now, you’re to come with me right away.”

 “…can’t…” Daniel whispered. “…Flavia…”

 “Don’t worry about her-I will sort it out. You need to rest, darling. I shall take you back to my chamber, I am not having you down in the basements.”

 Daniel’s eyes grew wide with shock. “ _No…_ can’t risk…”

 “Yes we can,” said Philip firmly. “You are not to worry about a single thing. Just let me look after you.”

* * *

 

 The next thing Daniel knew, he was being tucked up into the enormous four poster bed, beneath the thick blue sheets, the white curtains all around him, the soft cushions propping up his back and the feather mattress felt nothing short of a cloud beneath him. Despite his illness, never in his life had he been more comfortable. He had never imagined that something as simple as a bed _could_ feel quite this luxurious. Daniel could not help but feel like a prince.

 “Are you warm enough, sweetheart?” Philip asked him, gently folding the topmost blanket over him. He was taking all of this incredibly seriously-Daniel could tell that guilt had made him extra attentive. “I can send for warming pans if you wish?”

 “No, no,” Daniel whispered. “This is just…fine…” It seemed like such a small word, but his chest would not allow for more apt description of this slice of extravagance. Still-he could not help but worry. “But…Philip…what if someone-?”

 “No one will come in,” said Philip calmly. “And even if they do, you are hidden by the curtains,” Tucking the blanket into place around him, he took Daniel’s hand in both of his, holding it as carefully as if it was the crown jewels themselves. “Promise me that you will not worry yourself. Just relax. Concentrate on getting better.”

 Daniel could not help but feel a lapping of fear in his belly-but he tried his best to suppress it. He simply could not fathom how comfortable the bed was… “I will try.” Then-he coughed hard into his handkerchief.

 Once again, Philip looked close to tears. He kissed his hair, for what seemed like the hundredth  time, and sighed into it. “I am so sorry…”

 “N-no…” Daniel gasped. He could not stand to hear Philip beat himself up so. Once he had regained his strength, he sat as upright as he could, and squeezed Philip’s hands. “ _S-stop it_!” he said, as resolutely as he could. “It is…not your fault…” He looked directly in Philip’s eyes. “If…if you say it again…I…I will _cry_.”

 Philip started. For a moment, he looked stricken. Then-he smiled. “This is blackmail.”

 “You…think so?” Daniel gave a wicked little grin.                                       

 “You are so bad,” Philip stroked his hair fondly. “But alright. Anything for you, darling. I shall keep silent.”

 Daniel looked up at him, leaning back on the pillows. He coughed again into his handkerchief-but this time, it was softer. “ _Thank_ you.” he said, sincerely this time. “You are so unbelievably lovely to me. I can hardly believe how comfortable this bed is. I feel so safe with you. I-“ He had to stop again, pressing his handkerchief to his mouth. At this, Philip winced, and Daniel knew that guilt was still plaguing him. Now, he held on tighter. “I…I could not…love you…or anyone…more…”

 Philip’s face relaxed once again. “I love you too,” He combed his fingers gently though Daniel’s hair once more. “More than anything.”

 “Lean down,” Daniel asked him, putting the handkerchief down. “I want to kiss you.”

 Philip grinned-then leaned away. “Yuck. I don’t want your germs.” But, after a very hard stare from Daniel, he bent his head, and allowed Daniel to kiss his cheek.

 “I love you.” Daniel repeated, resting his head on Philip’s shoulder. Goodness, he felt so weak…

 “I love you too.” Philip said. He allowed Daniel to stay on him for a time before taking him gently in his arms and laying him down on the pillows. “Rest, love. I will bring you tea presently. I hope you will excuse me for a moment, for I must make arrangements for dear Flavia. But I will return to you as quickly as I can, I promise.”

 Daniel nodded docilely. Then, as Philip took his hands away-he began to feel that fear once again. How could he be left alone here? “But-but what if someone comes in?”

 “No one will.” Philip assured him. “No one would ever have a reason to come here, I promise. And I will lock the door, alright?”

 Daniel tensed-then relaxed once again. “Alright.” he said-the words tasting bad in his mouth.

 “Good.” Philip took his hand for a final time, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “No more worrying. I will see you soon.”


	12. The First Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you so, so much all for reading! It means so much that you have all stuck with me. We are getting to a climax very, very soon... ;) enjoy! Special thanks to Emma-this one is for you <3 
> 
> More tomorrow, hope you enjoy! xxx

  “Are you certain, sir?” Gladys asked as she held the kitchen door open for Philip to pass through. “It is really no trouble for me to bring it to your room-“

 “No, no!” Philip called back to her, as casually as he could. “I am quite alright. Thank you so much for your help!”

 But Philip was more than a little concerned as he climbed the stairs, laden tea-tray balanced precariously on his forearms. He held onto it as tightly as he could, but still, the china rattled with every step. He had requested the red teapot again, after Daniel had so complimented it, but it was perhaps the heaviest they owned. Further to the problem was the quick pace Philip was trying to keep up. He had already had to endure odd looks from Gladys for requesting _two_ teacups rather than one since Daniel, but he was more than grateful that she had not asked questions. With any luck, he would reach his chamber without any incident-

 “Philip!”

 Philip started so much that he almost dropped the tray. But thankfully-it was only his mother. Emmeline Lester was wearing pink today-the colour seemed to be in vogue since Miss Carolina had worn those pink ruffles during her visit. However, the bright colour rather washed the pale woman out, making her appear slightly sickly. It brought out the dark circles that had appeared beneath her eyes. Philip felt yet another surge of guilt in his stomach.

 “Hello, Mother,” he greeted her, stopping on the stair beneath the one on which she stood, so that they were at eye-level. The tea-tray was rather making his arms ache, but he bore it as he smiled politely. “I hope you are well.”

 “Very well,” she said, without meaning it. Then-she reached up, and touched her eldest son’s hair, her eyes very sad. Lowering her voice, she leaned into his shoulder and whispered: “I am so, _so_ sorry for what your father has done…”

 Philip quickly scanned the stairwell for life. Finding it to be empty, he dropped his voice. “ _Step_ -father.” he said firmly. “It is not your fault.”

 “I did not know, I promise you.” Emmeline looked most troubled. “Had I known, I would have prevented him…”

 “I know,” Philip said gently. He would have hugged her, but his hands were full, and so he tried to give comfort with his eyes. “I know.”

 “But…” Emmeline gave a forced sort of smile. “Alls well that ends well, I hope? At least you are certain of your future now. We should have Carolina’s answer before long, and then we can begin the preparations.”

 Philip’s stomach gave a horrible, downward lurch. He could not quite keep his face blank.

 “I know that you are nervous.” Emmeline said, her hand on his shoulder. Philip was glad that she had mistaken his disgust for worry. “There is not a person alive who would not be. But you mustn’t fret-once she has said yes, everything will fall into place.”

 It was all Philip could do not to react. He made himself give a slow, solemn nod.

 Emmeline sighed heavily. Once again, she checked the stairwell for intruders, then leaned in close. “I know that Carolina is…quite trying. But Violette assures me that she is a lovely girl, really. Beneath all the…” Emmeline made a vague gesture, and Philip doubted whether even she believed these excuses-before she smiled sadly at him once again. “But I know you will find happiness. You spread it wherever you go, dear. That is what is so special about you…”

 Philip had rarely wanted to throw his arms around someone more. He hoped he somehow communicated this back to her.

 “Everything will fall into place, after the wedding, and once she is all moved in here with you.” Emmeline said, in what was clearly supposed to be a hopeful, bracing voice. She patted Philip’s shoulder as a sick feeling churned inside him. _Moved in here_? What a repulsive thought. To have to be with her, twenty-four hours a day…but that would not happen. He would find a way. He had to-for his Daniel. For his sanity…

 “Be on your way then,” Emmeline smiled, glancing down at his tea-tray. Then-she paused. “Why are you carrying this yourself? We must pay the staff for something. I shall go and have a word with Ms Reilly-“

 “No, no!” said Philip hurriedly, desperate not to get anyone into trouble. “No, I _wanted_ to carry it myself.” he finished, rather limply.

Emmeline gave her son a strange look. She looked down at the tea-tray again. “Two cups? Have you company?” 

 “No!” said Philip-much, much too quickly.

 Emmeline frowned. She was far from stupid. “Philip?”

 Philip racked his brains. How on earth was he to explain this away? “Er…” he said, trying to buy himself time. “I…thought it would be good practice!”

 “Practice?”

 “For when Carolina is living here,” A rush of relief as he excuse came to him. “Wouldn’t it look awful if I forgot to ask for two cups of a morning? Completely the wrong way to begin a marriage. I wanted to get into the habit.”

 Emmeline paused, raising an eyebrow. Philip waited, his palms sweating as he tried to smile innocently. Then-finally-his mother smiled back. “I see. How…pragmatic of you.” She looked at the tea-tray once more. “Honey and lemon?”

 “Y-yes?”

 “But you always take milk,” Emmeline looked suspicious once again-then concerned. “Not ill, are you?”

 “Er-I have a bit of a tickle.” Philip said, clearing his throat for effect. “Want to catch it before it turns into a cold. Besides, milk always seems to give me a funny turn-it doesn’t really agree with me.”

 Thankfully-Emmeline nodded. “Yes, I had noticed…” She gave a delicate cough, and Philip felt his cheeks turn slightly red. To avoid any further discussion of this embarrassing topic, finally, she let Philip go.

 The china on the tray clanked as Philip moved as fast as he possibly could up the stairs and into the corridor which led to his chamber. His heart was thumping, his mouth dry. That was far too close a call…

* * *

 

 As the evening drew in, despite all of Philip’s care, Daniel had grown worse. His chest felt as if it had been laced tightly in an internal corset, his throat was raw and throbbing, his bones ached and his head was dizzy with illness.

 “You poor thing…” Philip sighed, rubbing Daniel’s back as he ducked into his handkerchief for the hundredth time, coughing fit to burst. He was sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, both of them hidden by the curtains.

 “I’m…sorry…” Daniel whispered when it finally stopped. All of the coughing made his headache twice as bad.

 “Don’t,” said Philip, stroking his head. “Don’t. Oh God, I hate to see you like this.”

 Outside, the sky was growing dark. Night was falling, and, through his foggy haze of illness, Daniel knew that the longer he stayed in this wonderful bed in the arms of the man he loved-the more danger there was. “Darling…I can’t stay here…”

 “Yes you can.” said Philip, passing him a cup of water.

 “No…” Daniel insisted weakly as he took a painful sip. “I…will surely be missed…if I do not come to bed tonight…”

 “I am not having you sleeping down there in the basements on your own,” Philip said firmly. “Not when you can be warm and cared for here.” He placed the water cup carefully back on the bedside table, then began to gently stroke Daniel’s curls. “I have told the household that you are sick, and that you will be too sick to teach tomorrow. Flavia’s nursemaid will take the children through their lessons, and you will stay here. No one will look in your chamber, for I made certain to lock your door as I fetched the tea from the kitchens earlier.” He smiled, obviously pleased with himself. “I have taken care of everything.”

 Despite his sickness, Daniel could not help but smile. “You darling…” he whispered. But still-he was troubled. “Where…will you sleep?” he asked timidly.

 “Wherever you would have me,” Philip said graciously. “I can take some spare blankets on the rug, or I can sleep in a different room entirely. Whatever you are more comfortable with.”

 Daniel shook his head. “I want you close to me.”

 “Of course, darling,” Philip said. “Are you feeling tired now?”

 Daniel nodded. The warmth and the comfort was enough to make anyone sleepy.

 “Would you like me to leave you?”

 “No…” Daniel whispered. He reached out, and wrapped his arms around Philip. “Please stay…” Never had he wanted so much to be held…Thankfully, Philip seemed to understand. It was wholly improper-but, as they had agreed before, there was nothing proper about their situation at all. Therefore, after a moment’s hesitation, it was easy for Philip to climb, fully-clothed, onto the bed beside Daniel, and wrap him safely in his arms. Laying his head on the pillow beside him, he could not help but smile.

 “This is lovely…” Daniel sighed, through his hoarse throat. He snuggled into him, warmer and more comforting than anything else in the world.

 “Isn’t it?” Philip’s voice sounded strangely distant. He gently stroked Daniel’s cheek, his eyes very full. “You belong here, in my bed, with me… _you_ , and no one else…”

 Daniel did not have to ask to whom he was referring. He took Philip’s hand, and kissed it hard. “I think…I shall sleep much better…beside you…” He could feel his eyelids beginning to weigh down…

 “And I...I love you so much…” Philip whispered. Shifting slightly so that the two of them were in a more comfortable position, he kissed Daniel’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, love. I will be right here.”

 Daniel looked at him one last time, thinking on how lucky he was… “…love you too…” he whispered back, before closing his eyes and slipping away…

 

* * *

 

 Philip looked contentedly up at the ceiling as he felt Daniel grow heavy in his arms, his ragged little breaths evening out into the long, slow breaths of sleep. When he was far gone, his eyelids not even twitching as he slept dreamlessly, Philip felt pride in the comfort he had won for him. He wanted only to care for him, to keep him safe and close. It was the most beautiful thing in the world to think that Daniel wanted the same for him…

 He sighed again as he looked at Daniel’s sleeping head on the pillow beside him. This was the first thing he wanted to see when he woke, and the last thing when he fell asleep-the person he loved most in the world sleeping peacefully beside him, in their own little bubble of bedposts and pillows, safe from the outside world…Now he knew what it was to lay beside Daniel, to hold him as he slept, he knew he could never awaken to anyone else. Not ever.

 Despite the earliness of the hour, Philip could feel himself growing sleepy, drunk on the warmth and love he felt. And so, after kissing Daniel’s sleeping face for a final time, he pulled him close and, wonderfully, he drifted off into the most blissful sleep he could ever have imagined…


	13. A Locked Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I am SO SORRY I missed yesterday! :( :( :( I am the worst. So sorry. Thank you all for sticking with me, and especially for reading, and leaving kudos and comments! So kind of you all <3 <3 <3 
> 
> More tomorrow xxx

 Philip awoke late the next morning, long after he ought to have risen. He opened his eyes, and smiled broadly as he saw Daniel, still asleep, on the pillow beside him, Philip’s arm still flung over him. It was more glorious than he could have imagined. This was the way he wanted to wake up every single day…

 And yet it had been an awful night’s sleep. Poor Daniel had woken himself with coughing so many times, and had upset himself further at the thought that he was disturbing Philip, no matter Philip’s protesting that he did not care, that he only wanted to look after him. It was so difficult to see him ill and in pain…he looked even worse this morning, his eyes blackened, his lips dry. Philip sighed. His poor darling boy…how dreadful it was.

 A cup of tea was in order, certainly. He thought of simply ringing the bell, as he normally did-but perhaps it was more of a risk than it was worth to bring someone into the room when he was hiding the family tutor in his bed. Plus Daniel’s poor chest was so bad, he could not chance him not coughing from behind the curtain, and the game would be up. No. He would fetch it himself.

 Daniel was out for the count, his breathing deep and slow. As quietly as he possibly could, he slid off the bed and straightened up, stretching. Sleeping in his clothes had been a bad idea-he felt strangely cold and sweaty. Still, that couldn’t be helped right now. He bent down, and softly kissed Daniel’s hair, resting a hand on his curls for a second and thinking once again that he was the most fortunate man in the world. Then-he slipped through the curtains and made his way over to the door, taking care not to let it bang behind him.

 In less than five minutes, Philip was at the kitchen door. Stepping back, he knocked smartly on the door-but as he did so, the undercook came bustling out, an expression of terror on her face.

 “Oh!” she shrieked as she almost collided with Philip. “I’m so sorry sir!”

 “It’s quite alright,” said Philip kindly. “It’s Rebecca, isn’t it?”

 “Y-yes, sir!” Rebecca cried, as politely as she could-but it was plain that she was in quite a hurry. And was more than a little distressed.

 “Whatever is the matter? Is something wrong?” he asked.

 “Y-y-yes!” Rebecca stammered-and Philip realised that her eyes were filled with tears. “It’s-it’s just-“

 “Yes?” Philip asked, starting to feel more than a little concerned.

 “I-I went to bring s-some tea to-to the tutor just now-“ She gave a strangled yelp. “He-he’s not well, the p-poor lamb, and-and-I knocked on his door-and-and-“

 “And?” Philip asked, fear beginning to build up inside him.

 “And-and there was no answer-no life inside at all, and then-and then I knocked again-and there was just this-this awful _silence_ , and-and-“ A sound that was half a cry and half a sob. “And we think he m-might be _dead_!”

 It took Philip a long moment to swallow this bit of news. Just hearing Daniel being referred to in the same sentence as “dead” was enough to send a shiver down his spine. Suddenly, he heard a bustle of activity from the adjoining corridor-from outside Daniel’s room! This was enough to kick Philip into action and, followed by a distraught Rebecca, he raced towards the source of the noise.

 “Everyone needs to just _calm down_!” came Ms Reilly’s voice over the excitement. Crowded around the door to Daniel’s chamber were a handful of kitchen and parlour maids, a footman and a little scullery maid, all seemingly desperately worried about Daniel. Rebecca hurried to join them, and was welcomed with open arms by the throng. It was heartening to see how well-liked Daniel was-and absolutely horrifying. The whole mess would be funny if it was not so dire.

 “I’ve sent for the master key,” Ms Reilly was saying. “We’ll get the door open and check on him…dear goodness…” She rolled her eyes. “I have never known such people for a drama as yourselves! _Dead,_ I really don't know...”

 Philip felt as if his insides had fallen out. Oh _God_ , they would open the door to Daniel’s room and find him missing! What would happen then? What if they searched the house? What if they found him, in Philip’s bed? If they were found out, everything would be ruined. Or else-what if they assumed that Daniel must have mysteriously left in the night, and replaced him? How could he keep him close then? It would be the end of him…and he would have to marry the dreadful Carolina! And he would never see Daniel again! He could never, _never_ let that happen.

 Time was ticking forward. Philip knew he had to act, and he had to act fast. But what to do? How could he stop them from opening the door?

 Think. He covered his face with his hands.

  _Think_.

 Nothing came. No great plan, no deception, _nothing_. At this short range, there was nothing to be done, nothing, nothing, _nothing_ …

 Unless…

 Philip straightened up, rubbing his eyes hard. His pulse was racing. It was stupid, quite the stupidest idea he had ever had. But, as he stood there in the corridor, waiting for his life to be wrecked, it was all he could do.

 Taking the deepest breath of his life-Philip stepped forward.

 “Ms Reilly?”

 Ms Reilly looked up. “Oh goodness, whatever are you doing down here, Mr Lester?” She had never quite gotten out of the habit of speaking to him as if he was a child.

 “I-I need to talk to you!” he gasped.

 Ms Reilly blinked, surprised. “Can it wait five minutes, sir? I am dealing with-”

 “ _No_!” Philip said, much too forcefully-but it could not be helped. “Please,” He tried desperately to sound normal. “In _private_.” he said meaningfully, looking at the assembled company before him.

 Ms Reilly looked quite exasperated. Then, bound by duty-she sighed. “Quickly then.”

 Miraculously, she allowed Philip to lead her into the kitchen corridor, which was quiet and deserted.  “Yes, sir?” she asked him, making him feel as always that she could see right into his mind with those small, intense eyes.

 “I…” Philip began. He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest. “I…”

 Ms Reilly looked on expectantly.

 “The-the tutor,” Philip said, finally. “He-he is not in his room.”

 Ms Reilly hardly flinched. “Well, that always seemed much more likely than his sudden death…” Then, after less than a second’s pause-those sharp eyes flicked back up to him. “Does this mean that, besides his room, you _know_ where he is?”

 Philip swallowed hard. He should have known that Ms Reilly would not miss a trick. “Yes. I mean no!” he said, stupidly.

 Ms Reilly raised an eyebrow. “Which is it, then?”

 Feeling like a child in disgrace, Philip clutched his hands tighter around himself. “He-he has gone away…”

 Ms Reilly furrowed her brow in disgust. “ _Well_. Mr Lester, it would seem that the boy has made fools of us. Why, you yourself told me that he was too ill to leave his bed! And now he has gone away…dear goodness, the nerve of it! I shall have to have words with him when he returns. Or, perhaps, he should _not_ return-“

 “No!” Philip cried out. “No! I mean-I mean-“ He was at a loss for words as the housekeeper stared him down. “He-what I _meant_ to say is-he-he has not left the house!”

 Ms Reilly was looking more suspicious be the moment. “Then he _is_ in his room?”

 “No,” Philip said…then, he looked up and down the corridor, and took a step closer to Ms Reilly. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Ms Reilly, can you be discreet?”

 There was a spark in those sharp little eyes. “It is my job.”

 Philip felt a distinct feeling of wrong-footedness, a sickness in his stomach, every fibre of his being pulling against itself…and yet, there was nothing else he could do. “Ms Reilly…” He took a step towards the housekeeper, and spoke straight into her ear. “I must ask you not to share this information with another soul. Do I have your word?”

 Ms Reilly leaned closer to him. “My word, sir.”

 Philip swallowed hard. Then-he began. “Daniel is not in his room. And yet, he is still bedbound, just as I said. He is nothing but honest, I swear to you…but…” His heart was beating so hard that he could _hear_ it. “…but he is not in his bed. He-he is…in mine…”

 There was a short silence.

 Ms Reilly blinked hard. Then-she raised an eyebrow high. “Spending much time in your bed, is he?”

 “No! I mean-it’s not like that-I…” Philip tailed off, feeling his skin burning.

 “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” said Ms Reilly casually-and Philip could not help but make a small sound of amazement. “It is my job to notice everything that goes on at Ridingstone, Mr Lester. There has been a spring in your step of late that I highly doubt is due to your forthcoming wedding-“ Here she fixed him with a _very_ hard look. “-and I have seen the way you look at our tutor whenever you pass ways about the Hall, since the first day he arrived. Frankly it is rather nauseating…” She made a face. “Though I suppose I can see it: the big brown doe-eyes, the anxious disposition, the accent like he is high-born-I suppose that _some_ go for that sort of thing…”

 Philip felt rather faint. He gaped in disbelief.

 “Oh, do put your tongue away, Mr Lester,” Ms Reilly rolled her eyes. “It is nothing to me whom you choose to share your bed with...”

 “So-so you won’t tell anyone?” Philip begged her. “I have your word, remember? And-and that means that you needn’t tell my parents either!”

 Ms Reilly gave a small snort. “ _There_ it is…” She sighed. “Sweet Jesus…Fine, Mr Lester. I will not tell your parents of this...affair-“ Here, Philip gave an enormous sigh of relief. “- _if_ -“ the housekeeper finished.

 “What?” Philip asked urgently.

 With a small smile-Ms Reilly held out her hand. “ _If_ I can buy myself a big enough distraction to make me forget…and this is a very  _big_ thing to forget, mind…”

 Sighing once again, Philip took out his wallet. As he did so-he realised his hands were shaking…


	14. The Birdcage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! So sorry for another late chapter. Normal service from tomorrow as promised <3 Much love to you all. Thank you so, so much for reading this, I really can't express it. More tomorrow xxx

Ms Reilly was a woman of her word. However, almost immediately after the staff of Ridingstone Hall had been persuaded that Daniel was not, in fact, dead-the rumours began.

 Where was Daniel, if terribly sick, but not in his bed? He had not been taken to hospital, for Mr Laurel the butler saw all who came and went from the manor and had assured a curious Rebecca that he had not left the building. Rebecca had wondered hard, up to her elbows in kneading dough in the kitchen; what had happened to the young tutor she had made a pet of, who had eaten her gift of pastry with such gratitude? Then-as Gladys came in with the master’s empty breakfast tray, she mentioned that the young Mr Philip Lester had been collecting his own breakfast tray for days. This was unusual enough, but what’s more-when he returned it to the kitchen to be washed, there were always _two_ teacups.

 Rebecca would never have concerned herself with this, for what was the folly of the upper class to her? However, the appearance of Mr Philip at the discovery of Daniel’s “death” had set her mind racing.

 As the days wore on, the young Mr Lester appeared more frequently than ever in the kitchen. It seemed that he had taken to eating certain meals in his chamber. This was not a particularly unusual practise in itself, but again- _two_ plates always returned. Two forks. Two spoons. Two more teacups.

 The idea that Mr Lester had someone hidden in his bedchamber was much too exciting for her not to share, and so Rebecca had asked the maid Gladys, who had the most access to the bedchambers of the family. As fascinated by this conspiracy as Rebecca was, and very keen to uncover scandal, Gladys had scarpered to see what she could uncover straight away-and had came back with her eyes shining. She had not been allowed entry to the chamber. It seemed that Rebecca was right.

 “Perhaps he is whoring,” Gladys had suggested gleefully over a cup of tea. “Perhaps he has taken a liking to one, and has decided to keep her.”

 “Shh,” Rebecca hissed, checking over her shoulder. “I do not think so. He would never be stupid enough to bring a mistress under the very eyes of his father. Besides, I have never heard of him going to dance halls, or I think…” And here, she lowered her voice and leant forward. “I think that he has someone from the Hall in there with him.”

 Gladys had muffled her gasp with her hand. “You mean…but who?”

 Rebecca whispered the name so low that she had to repeat herself. And when her meaning was clear-Gladys had all but shrieked.

* * *

 

“Carolina has sent her reply.” said Philip as he locked the door behind him.

 “Really?” Daniel said, straightening up on the pillows as best he could. It had been three days now since he had left this bed, and he was wondering whether he ever would. At least he was beginning to regain a little of his strength at last. His cough did not plague him so much, though his chest was still very tight. Perhaps he would return to teaching soon…still. He felt very weak…much too weak to consider doing anything but resting against the man he loved. “What did she say? _No_ , I dare hope…”

 “No such luck,” Philip sighed as he climbed up beside him and snuggled in, laying Daniel’s head on his shoulder. “Though I think she was rather peeved that I asked her in a letter-not that it was my idea anyway…but she is “overjoyed to be my fiancée at last”. And she is bringing Mama and Daddy up with her this weekend to discuss arrangements…oh _God_ …” He groaned into Daniel’s hair. “I have a _fiancée_.”

 Daniel ached for him, tutting sympathetically. “You poor thing…though I stand by the argument I made yesterday.”

 “Yes, darling, it was most convincing,” Philip said, holding him close. “In fact, I think I should feel rather better for hearing it again.”

 “Alright,” said Daniel. He leaned over, and took a long drink of water to ensure his delicate throat did not fail him, before turning back to Philip. “As you did not write the words in your own hand, I don’t think you can truly call yourself “engaged”. Really, as he wrote the note, it is your step-father who is engaged to be married to Miss Carolina.”

 “The terrible bigamist.” Philip agreed, and they shared a sad smile of desperate mirth.

 “Yes,” Daniel said, before coughing into his handkerchief. It was a little better now-he had even managed almost to sleep through the night. “So I say that you are a single man, as free as the birds in the sky.”

 “A single man, am I?” Philip teased him.

 “Perhaps not,” Daniel considered, resting feebly on him. “As long as you love me…”

 “Well then,” Philip kissed his hair hard. “I am rather indefinitely not…”

 Daniel loved it when he said things like this. He took hold of his hands with a sigh. “Oh daring…what are we to do?”

 Philip took a deep breath, which he held for a long moment-before letting it go. “Something. We must simply get through this weekend. Then, we shall do _something_.”

 “We shall,” agreed Daniel weakly. “There is always something…”

* * *

 

 The weekend arrived, and with it, Carolina.

 As it was a weekend and they had guests, Daniel would not have been required to teach, but Philip insisted that he stay rested, warm in his bed. Daniel rather thought that he was probably well enough to resume his activities, but Philip was more than adamant. Perhaps he was being overly cautious due to the fact that Daniel knew he still blamed himself for Daniel’s sickness. Perhaps he simply needed the assurance that, after the trying day with the Whittakers, he would come home to Daniel. Either way-Daniel remained in Philip’s chamber.

 Philip had brought him many books, the contents of which were generally histories from the library collection rather than the novels Daniel craved, but still, they starved off boredom. He read awhile, sitting in the window-seat with Philip’s dressing gown wrapped around him. It was almost as if he was still in his arms. How Daniel ached for his poor Philip-how awful it must be to have to play the part, to sit and smile at his new “fiancée”…Daniel wished that there was some way he could relieve him. But they would find a way out of it. They _had_ to…he leaned back against the glass of the window, massaging his chest. It still felt horribly tight-but Daniel wondered whether this was entirely due to his ailment and not the fact that the man he loved was in distress…

 He gazed beyond the great iron-bars that surrounded the house, up into the endless blue of the sky.

* * *

 

 Philip felt like an actor on stage. He allowed himself to be kissed by Madame Violette, leaving huge mauve lipstick marks on both his cheeks, as the magnificent woman loudly vocalised her enthusiasm for the forthcoming wedding. He smiled reservedly as he shook the hand of Mr Edward Whittaker, the father of the radiant bride. Then, when it came to Carolina herself, she threw herself upon him from the moment her foot left the carriage that had brought her up the long drive to Ridingstone, making a terrific show of the fact that he was finally hers. Gritting his teeth, he made himself catch her in his arms, to leave a dry kiss on her hands, to offer his arm to her as they climbed the stairs to the building she seemed determined to make her home as quickly as she could. He could feel his mother and step-father looking on from behind him, and he knew that he was pleasing them. He looked down at the excited faces of his little brother and sister with an ache in his heart. It was as if everyone in the world was watching him, and there was nothing he could do but play his part.

 By the time he reached the top of the stairs, the enormous blue front doors opening the hall to him…for a moment, he turned his head. He looked back at the vast wrought-iron gates, the gates which cut him off from the outside world, the gates that were the bars of his cage. He thought of Daniel, waiting for him above, loving him without condition, just as he was, in a way that Carolina Whittaker could never understand, in a way that this shallow, shallow world could never understand.

 He stared beyond the gates, to the rolling hills of the pasture beyond, to the rest of England that sat just out of his reach, like a great uneaten feast…

 There was only one way that he could be sure to stay with Daniel forever, to avoid marrying Carolina and to escape to freedom.

 He, and Daniel, would have to leave Ridingstone forever.


	15. The Window-Seat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so, so much for reading, and for leaving kudos and comments! You are all so kind and it really means the world. Sorry this is so short-I have been so busy lately! But hope you enjoy anyway xxx
> 
> More tomorrow! <3 <3 <3

 Philip’s arm had begun to go numb. He had been letting Carolina lead him about the gardens, telling him exactly what and where she planned to change once she moved into “the Hall” as she had begun to call it-this was a nickname only permanent residents such as family and staff used. She held onto him so tightly now, as if he was a troublesome child that might dart away at any moment. Philip could do nothing but follow her, answering when it was required of him, nodding, smiling when he needed to-all the while, he thought of nothing but Daniel; the gentle way he held his hand, the comfortable silence they enjoyed in these overgrown, chaotic, and beautiful, gardens. There was one difference, however, which was paramount-he _wanted_ to hold onto Daniel. He wanted nothing more than to let go of Carolina.

 _Carolina can move into this house if she wants to_ , Philip thought darkly. _But I will not be here when she does…_

 “Come, dear,” Carolina’s voice cut into his thoughts like the buzzing of a wasp. “I tire of the gardens. I _really_ do not know how you can live in such a place. Why, I have half a mind simply to gut the place and start anew!”  

 “Don’t you think that it has a sort of charm?” Philip asked her desperately. He felt sad, as if she were telling him that a beloved family pet was too old and ugly, and needed to be shot. It was one of the ways she managed to break his heart each time they were together. This lit a small fire inside him. “I adore these gardens. They really mean the world to me. I would truly grieve them if they were gone.”

 Carolina looked at him for a moment-then laughed hugely, like tinkling bells. “Oh, you are _silly_! Let’s go and find Mama and Daddy. I am sure they said they were in the drawing room.” And with that, she pulled him back towards the Hall. “Come on!” she called back, as if he was her little dog.

* * *

 

 Daniel closed the heavy history he was reading and rested it in his lap. It bemused him as to why there were so many books on seafaring in the Lester library, considering the Northern county they lived in was landlocked. Perhaps the master or mistress had an interest…it was nothing to Daniel. He simply could not turn his interest to long accounts of voyages…he leaned weakly against the glass of the window. How his chest pained him…he gazed out into the gardens, wondering what Philip was doing right at that moment…and at that moment, he spotted a tall, dark-haired figure being led towards the house.

 Daniel could not help but stare as he watched Philip being positively dragged by the arm up the cobble path from the gardens around to the house. Carolina was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at her. He could not help but feel strange-and very jealous. Just seeing someone else hanging onto Philip’s arm- _his_ Philip’s arm-no matter how much he told himself that Philip did not like her, that there was nothing there apart from duty-he could not help himself. He did not want anyone else holding the man he loved. But more than that-he did not want anyone who made Philip miserable anywhere near him.

 It was torture to watch them-and yet he could not look away. From behind the curtains, his heart broke in his aching chest for his poor Philip...

* * *

 

“…and then I think I should re-paper the entirety of the grand staircase-my goodness, that bird design is so old-fashioned. And speaking of birds, I detest all of the stuffed creatures you keep in every corner of the place. They all will have to go once I am living here-I do not want to feel as if I am constantly in some avian zoo. I do not know if any one of them would fetch much to sell-perhaps it would be better to simply burn the whole flock of them!”

 “Perhaps,” said Philip politely, through gritted teeth. He did not think it worth his breath to say that his family had been collecting the birds for over a hundred years and had sold all else rather than parting with them. “Perhaps.”

 “And I do think it is ridiculous to have all of this amazing space inside the house and to not use half of it! Goodness, the things we would do for a manor this size in the city…” Carolina looked up at the curtained half of the house, which had been disused for many years. “Can we not simply reopen it?”

 “No,” said Philip quietly. “You see, the more it is left unused, the more it descends into ruin. Since it is so expensive to heat the place, we have not heated the disused wings in more than twenty years. They are therefore completely uninhabitable-“

 “Oh, well, Daddy can fix all of that,” said Carolina naively. “It simply will not do to live in half of a house. I would not be caught dead, and Mama would not have it either…”

 Philip thought it best not to try to explain further. It would take millions of pounds even to make the place hospitable again, let alone maintaining it…then again, this was part of the reason why his own mother and step-father were so keen for him to marry Carolina. Especially Alfred. Philip rather thought that he often felt quite the same as Carolina regarding living in “half a house”…

 “So which is your bedroom?” Carolina was asking him, looking up at Ridingstone Hall, her beady eyes scanning each of the shining glass windows in the afternoon sun. “Well- _ours_.”

 Philip almost physically spluttered at the notion of “our bedroom”. His bedroom, the bedroom he had slept in since he was a child, the bed that he had only shared with one other, and only wished to share with one other…it was “our bedroom” indeed. But “ours” meaning “mine” and “Daniel’s”. That was it. The notion of waking up to Carolina instead was so repellent that he felt rather ill.

 “Third floor,” he said, with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Overlooking the gardens. The very last window.”

 Carolina looked up, counting windows until she found- “Ah yes, I see…wait. Philip? Did you say that your room is the last window overlooking the garden?”

 “The very one.” said Philip with disinterest, his gaze fixed on the floor. How simply terrible it would be. He could not bear to live with anyone except his own beloved-

 “...Then I think that there is someone in your room!”


	16. Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thank you so, so, so much for reading, and for leaving comments and kudos! You are all so kind, and I genuinely love every single one of you. It means the world that you are enjoying this! <3 
> 
> More tomorrow! <3 <3 <3

 “…stop contradicting me, Philip, I know what I saw!”

 Rebecca had been passing through the entrance hall, clasping an unwieldy sack of potatoes that had just been delivered to her chest-but at the shrill voice of the Whittaker daughter, she stopped still to listen.

 Carolina Whittaker had burst into the entrance hall, her pink-ruffled dress announcing her presence. She was dragging a terrified-looking Philip by the arm, moving as fast as she could towards the grand staircase. It seemed that Philip was doing all he could to slow her down-but a wild sort of determination was emanating from her like the flames of a furnace.

 “…There was _definitely_ someone in your bedroom! I swear, if I find that you are seeing someone else...I don’t know _what_ I will do!”

 It took mere seconds for Rebecca to realise what was going on. The moment she did-her blood ran cold.

 Instantly, seemingly without a single instruction from her brain, knowing only that she must do _something_ -she began to sprint towards the back staircase, potatoes falling from sack behind her, leaving a trail as she ran.

 “Gladys! Gladys!” she yelled, as she spotted the maid carrying a wicker basket full of dirty linin down the stairs.

 “What?”

 “Quick!” Rebecca shouted, leaping up the stairs two at a time. “Go to the Grand Staircase! Waylay Mr Philip and Miss Carolina-do anything you possibly can!”

 “Why?” To her merit, Gladys immediately spun around to climb the stairs once again, puffing in Rebecca’s wake. “What’s happening?”

 “Carolina is going to find out about Daniel!” Rebecca yelled back to her. “He will be in the most terrible trouble if we do not stop her!”

 That did it. Gladys followed her up the stairs, head down as she wheezed with the exercise-but the moment she reached the third floor, she peeled off and hurried into the main house corridor, which led to the mouth of the Grand Staircase. As fast as she could, Rebecca skidded into the corridor lined with family bedchambers-and that was the moment she realised that, being the undercook-she had absolutely no idea which chamber belonged to Mr Philip Lester.

 “Oh my goodness!” boomed a voice from the Grand Staircase below. “Pardon sir, miss-I appear to have dropped my entire washing basket all over the stairs! How stupid of me!”

 “Oh, don’t worry about that!” came the kind voice of Philip Lester, who sounded more than a little relieved to find a diversion. “Here-let me help you!” 

 “What on Earth are you _doing_?” shrieked Carolina, sounding absolutely incensed with rage. “You don’t _help_ _servants_! That is what they are made for! Oh Philip, you truly are an utter fool!”

 Grateful for the extra time, Rebecca began frantically trying the locks on all of the doors. Every one of them opened easily in her hand-she found a disused bedroom filled with miscellaneous furniture, a scarlet bedroom cluttered with sports equipment that had to belong to the young Master Laurence, and a lilac chamber with dolls on the shelves and several thick books of mathematics on the little child’s desk that must house Miss Flavia. Until, finally, she tried the very last door-and found the handle stiff in her hand, the lock firmly pushed into place, and entry to the chamber utterly denied. _Ah_.

* * *

 

 Daniel was so scared he was close to tears.

 The moment he realised that Carolina had spotted him-it was already too late. He had ducked behind the curtains-but he had already seen that magenta-painted mouth turn into an “O” of shock. Oh God. She had seen him in Philip’s room. _She had seen him in Philip’s room_. And now everything was spoiled.

 Had she recognised him? Surely not, they had spent no more than twenty minutes together when he had played the piano for her mother-but he was certain she had barely glanced in his direction. But what did that matter now? She was coming, she was coming-and he was trapped in this locked chamber, with no means of escape, waiting for her wrath to fall…what was to become of him? The moment he was discovered, he would lose his job that very instant, there was absolutely no question of that. He would be dismissed, he would have to leave Ridingstone Hall, the place where he had worked so hard to get to, that had shone so wonderfully in the sun the very first day he arrived-and where he had been happier than he had ever been in his life.

 Philip. Even more terrifyingly, what was to become of Philip? The fury of Philip’s step-father would be horrendous-Daniel could not bear to think of it. And then he would certainly, _certainly_ , be forced to marry Miss Carolina. If she would still have him-however Daniel doubted that she would let go of him over so trivial a matter as a member of staff. But what was absolutely sure was that once they were discovered, Daniel would never see Philip again. They would be forced apart. Daniel sent away, Philip forced to remain…

 Daniel felt as if he could scream. Tears were welling up in his eyes, the roaring in his ears told him that he could faint-

 Door-handles.

 Outside, someone was trying all the door-handles! Frozen with fear, Daniel could do nothing but wait. The waiting was agony, as if he was being skinned alive-but worse and worse would be his discovery…he could hear the blood pounding in his head.

 They were outside.

 Seconds passed. Excruciating, excruciating waiting…then-

 “Daniel? Daniel? Are you in there?”

 Daniel almost cried out, his hands flying to his mouth. This was the voice, and this was the name-but they were not the shrill tone of anger he had been dreading. This was not Carolina. This-this was-

 Daniel raced to the door, pressing his ear to the wood. “R-Rebecca?” he whispered. Oh goodness, it was Rebecca, sweet Rebecca, who had given him that pastry when he was sad all that time ago, who had kept a kindly watch over him all this time! He almost swooned with relief.

 “Daniel!” Rebecca hissed back. “You have to hide! Carolina is coming-we have bought you a couple of seconds, but there isn’t much time!”

 It took Daniel a moment to process this. Just the fact that Rebecca knew that he was in here, and therefore must know what was going on between himself and Philip was terrifying-but there was no time to think on that now. He had to act, and fast.

 “Quick!”

 With that-Daniel sprang into action. He looked around wildly-where to hide? Beneath the bed? There wasn’t enough space. Behind the curtains? Too obvious. The wardrobe? _Ah._ He heard Rebecca’s footsteps rushing away as he darted across the room and threw open the wardrobe doors, the bird carved into them practically in flight as they swooped off to the sides. And with that, Daniel climbed awkwardly inside. He folded up his long legs beneath him, Philip’s clothes blindfolding him as they flapped about his head-before he reached out and pulled the doors shut. He wrapped his arms around himself, holding his hands over his nose and mouth to muffle his breathing-and stayed absolutely still.

 At that very instant-he head Philip’s key in the lock outside.

 Then-the chamber door creaked open.

 A long silence.

 “ _Oh_.” came a stroppy-sounding female voice.

 “See!” Philip’s voice came, sounding as if his entire body was shaking with nerves-and yet filled with glorious relief. “I _told_ you-it must have just been a trick of the light. There _couldn’t_ have been anyone in here, for I have the only key.”

 Daniel strained to listen. He could hear footsteps outside, little, clacking footsteps on high heels. With a swish, the curtains were pulled back-then dropped as they proved, on closer inspection, that they revealed nobody. “Why are all these books here?” mumbled Carolina. She sounded most vexed at being apparently proven wrong.

 “Oh, I adore reading on the window-seat,” Philip said quickly. “It is most pleasurable.”

 But Carolina was not finished. She stamped over to the bed, and Daniel heard her pull back the curtains. “What an ugly blue!” she remarked of the sheets. “We shall have to buy new ones-I simply cannot sleep in such a colour. Philip, you will have to purchase an entire set of new bedding before we are married.” 

 “Of course, dear.” said Philip, though such obviously gritted teeth that Daniel was astonished that Carolina seemed deaf to it.

 “Oh Philip, I bet your clothes are just as hideous!”

 Those footsteps began to clack towards the wardrobe.

 Daniel held his breath. Every fibre of his being felt as if it was imploding on itself. Oh _God_. Here it came…he clasped his hands as hard as he could over his mouth and nose, fighting to keep still as he waited-

 “Oh Carolina, do leave off!” Philip’s voice-suddenly, a little sharper. Far sharper than Daniel had ever heard it. “I am sure that there is not a single item of clothing in there that would please you, even if you had chosen them yourself!” This was the closest to angry that Daniel had ever heard him. “You are simply wont to find fault with every single aspect of me and this house!”

 There was a long silence.

 But Carolina, by some heavenly miracle, had stopped in her tracks.

 “ _Philip_!” She had spun around, startled by his words. It could not be clearer that she was unused to anyone standing up to her. Another pause, as she struggled to find the words with which to express her shock and disgust. Then, finally, she settled upon- “I am going to find Mama!”

 And with that, seemingly extra-loudly to prove her point, those high-heels stamped all the way to the chamber door. With a swoosh of pink ruffles, she was gone, letting the door slam shut behind her.

 There was a pause.

 “Daniel?” Philip called quietly, his tone gentle and loving-quite himself once again. He sounded short of breath-and astonished that he had managed to stand up to Carolina. But still, there was a note of concern. “Daniel, love, where are you?”

 Terrified that she would come back-Daniel knocked gently on the wardrobe door. Two knocks.

 There was a tremendous sigh of relief. “Oh, you clever thing!” Philip exclaimed-but still, he kept his voice low. “Darling, promise me that you will stay far away from that window! I must leave now-I am sure this will need smoothing over. But listen-“ Daniel could tell that he had moved close to the closed wardrobe doors, and now he was whispering. “I have a plan. We are going to be together always, I promise. Wait until I return to you tonight, and I will explain everything. Know now only that I love you.”

 “I love you too.” Daniel whispered back through the wood.

 And with that, and the sound of the lock twisting in the door-Philip was gone.

 Daniel hugged his knees to his chest, Philip’s clothes tickling the back of his neck as they hung above him. Whatever Philip’s plan was-he was more than eager for it. Letting out the breath he was holding, Daniel thanked every star that Rebecca had been there for him-the dear, kind friend she was…But now, once again-all he could do was wait.


	17. The Last Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! So sorry that I didn't post yesterday! I have been ridiculously busy. But I hope you enjoy this extra-long chapter today to make up for it. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much for sticking with me, and for reading, leaving kudos and leaving comments! It honestly means the world. So much love for you all. More tomorrow! xxxxx

 At long, long last, after the sun had already set-the door opened once again, and Philip entered his bed chamber. At the sight of him, Daniel could hardly contain his joy. He rushed to him and threw his arms around him as tightly as he could. “Oh, darling, I was so scared!”

 “I know…” Philip murmured into his shoulder. “I know…” He held him close, taking long, deep breaths. They remained like so for a long moment, each trying to lose themselves in one another and forget all about the dreadful day that had just ended. Daniel could not help but feel almost close to tears once again, the memory of the afternoon still fresh in his mind. He had not dared move from the wardrobe for almost half an hour, and when he finally did, he had run straight to the blasted curtains and pulled them closed, yanking them so hard that they now almost overlapped one another. But still-his ordeal was nothing compared with Philip’s.

 “Never mind me…” Daniel muttered. “How are you?”

 Philip let out a sharp snort. He shook his head, holding on tighter. “Awful…awful day…”

 “I’m so sorry,” Daniel said, kissing his cheek. “Oh, isn’t Carolina simply _revolting_? I couldn’t stand the way she treated you!” He kissed him again, sighing. “You poor thing. How can she be so insensitive? I almost burst straight out of the wardrobe and gave her a piece of my mind!”

 Philip gave a soft laugh. “As touching as that is, I am rather glad you didn’t.”

 “But I didn’t have to, because you stood up to her yourself!” Daniel beamed as he remembered Philip’s moment of triumph. “I was so proud of you! Just like when you stood up to her for me, when she called me “common as muck”! You really are so brave!” He kissed him once more, letting his lips linger a little longer on his cheek, which was now tinged pink.

 “Oh, I’m really not,” said Philip, embarrassed-but secretly pleased. “You are a sweetheart for saying so, but it is not true. If I really was brave, I would tell her that I have absolutely no intention to marry her…”

 “Well, no one is perfect.” said Daniel comfortingly.

 “Still-it doesn’t matter any more!” Philip gave Daniel one last grateful squeeze-then pulled away, taking his hands and leading him over to the bed, where they both sat down. “Darling, you must listen to me very carefully. If there is any chance of this working, everything must go off without a hitch.”

 “What?” Daniel was more than curious as to the contents of Philip’s “plan”.

 Philip paused for a moment-then grinned. “Tonight, we must both pack our things-only the bare essentials. Then, first thing tomorrow morning, before anyone else in the household rises, I am going to steal Ms Reilly’s keys. All you must do, darling, is wait for me in the entrance hall. As soon as I have the keys, I will come for you, and then we shall make for the front gates…”

 Daniel blinked for a moment-then, with a surge of excitement inside, he realised. “You…you mean…?” He clutched Philip’s hands as tightly as he could.

 “Yes!” Philip cried. He was beaming all over his face, seeming to emanate purest sunlight. “We are leaving Ridingstone Hall first thing tomorrow morning, and we are never coming back!”

 Daniel could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Despite his joy-he could not help but feel afraid. “But-but where will we go?”

 “Does it matter?” Philip looked practically drunk with elation. “We shall simply take the first carriage that arrives in the village, and we will travel South, as far as South goes!” He grinned, pulling Daniel closer to him. “I have been thinking, love-wouldn’t it be wonderful for us to go to the South Coast-perhaps down to Brighton? It is much warmer down there, and I hear that the summers are beautiful. Imagine, darling, living together beside the sea!”

 Daniel could not help but feel romanced by this notion. The spontaneity, the reckless adventure-he it was just like the tales he read of in his books! Just the thought of running away to the seaside, the sun of the South, with the man he loved-his heart had begun to pound in his chest. “Oh, how wonderful!”  

 “Yes!” Philip exclaimed, relieved and delighted by Daniel’s enthusiasm. “Far away, as far away from this place as it is possible to go, where no one knows you and no one knows me! We can simply be together-no more hiding, no more fear, no more kisses in the shadows…we can live our lives the way that we choose!”

 As incredible as all of this sounded-still, a creature of doubt raised its ugly head in Daniel’s chest. “But what about my job?”

 “You’ll get a new one,” said Philip, as if it was as simple as anything. “You are an amazing tutor-how could you not? And so will I! We will both find work, and we will live by our own means. I have plenty of money to keep us afloat until we are settled, but the moment we can, we shall be completely independent. No more Lester money. We shall support ourselves.”

 Daniel paused, momentarily distracted. Then-more doubt. “You understand that we will never be able to afford anything like this?” He gestured to his surroundings, the four-poster bed, the garden beyond the window, the entirety of Ridingstone Hall. “Living on a working wage-it is not always as easy as all that…”

 “I don’t care,” said Philip instantly, with more certainty than anything else in the world. “I don’t care about any of this. This house may be luxurious, but it is nothing short of a prison now. I want to be free-and I want to be with you. Being with you is worth all of the riches in the world many times over…” He leaned forward, and kissed him passionately. “We don’t need anything at all. Just a roof over our heads, and one another.”

 Once again, Daniel was briefly romanced, overcome with love. Then-once more, he felt a tug of doubt. Leaving Ridingstone Hall was one thing…however, it wasn’t just four walls. “But what about  your family?”

 Now, for the first time, Philip hesitated. “Well…I shan’t miss my step-father…but I shall miss Mother. And Laurie and Flavia…it will be awful to leave them…” He looked down, his heart very heavy…then, he took a deep breath. “But it is necessary. I must live my life. I can write to them-and perhaps they can come to stay with us sometimes. That would be lovely.” He gave a small smile. “We all must make sacrifices.”

 Daniel listened carefully. To hear that Philip was willing to give up his entire life for him…it was almost overwhelming. He had never felt so loved in his life…and as he looked into Philip’s eyes-he knew that there was nothing else to be said. Though he himself felt sad to be leaving such a beautiful place…they would leave together, and they had the whole world before them to find somewhere better…

 “I…I almost can’t believe it…” Daniel breathed. His eyes were misted with wonder. “We are really going to be together…”

 “I promised you, didn’t I?” Philip beamed at him. He bent his head, and kissed Daniel’s hands, letting out a sigh of excitement and love. “I promised you. And now…everything is going to be _beautiful_.”

 Before another word could be uttered-they had fallen to one another’s arms, lost in dreams and kisses.

* * *

 With a heavy heart, Philip knocked on Laurence’s bedroom door.

 “Come in!” the boy called. Philip turned the handle and entered. As usual, by the end of the day Laurence’s room was festooned with clothes, books and sports equipment. Considering poor Gladys had to tidy up after him every morning, Philip had no idea how he managed to get it into such a state. But that didn’t matter now. In the middle of the floor, Laurence was sat cross-legged beside a large black trunk, brand-new and open wide.

 “Oh! Hello, Phil!” Laurence held up a hand in greeting.

 “Hello, Laurie,” Philip crouched down beside his little brother, and raised an eyebrow. “You should probably be in bed, you know.”

 “Oh, as if you are going to tell on me.” Laurence grinned at him. “Look!” He tapped the trunk. “Papa bought me this today to take to Harrow! My very own trunk! And look at these!” He reached inside, and pulled out a pair of leather cricket gloves. “Papa’s very own! He gave them to me. Aren’t they just smashing?”

 “Absolutely smashing,” Philip smiled back-trying to keep all trace of grief from his voice. “I’m sure you’ll be the star of the cricket team. And every other team.”

 “Oh, I’m counting on it,” Laurence said confidently. “Mr Howell said he thought so too-though the fellow seems to have vanished…Not that he knew anything at all about cricket. He was even more clueless than you are!”

 Philip chuckled fondly at his brother’s coarseness, putting a hand on his shoulder. Goodness, he would miss him dreadfully… “I’m certain you’ll have a grand old time at school…Promise you’ll write to me loads. I want to hear all about it.” He swallowed the lump in his throat hard as he looked at his little brother…

 Laurence looked back up at him, his nose screwed up. “Not gone soft, have you?”

 The laugh that Philip let out was so wet with emotion that he was astounded Laurence did not notice anything wrong. “Ah, Laurie…” He swallowed again, harder this time. “I could never do that to you.” 

 “You had better not.” Laurie grinned. Then, he raised his hand once again-this time in farewell. “Goodnight, then.”

 With some difficulty, Philip removed his hand from Laurence’s shoulder, and got to his feet. “Goodnight.” he said, hardly able to produce sound. He ruffled Laurence’s hair, pressing his lips together hard. “I do love you.”

 Laurence snorted hard, ducking away from Philip and patting his hair back into place, so that it lay flat in its usual skull-cap style. “Yuck! Get off! You are worse than Mama!”

 “Alright, alright!” Philip laughed sadly. He looked down at Laurence one last time, thinking on how he had been as a baby, as a little boy, as the young man that he now saw, almost ready to take on the world. “Night then.”

 “Night.” Laurence called back, not bothering to look up from his new trunk. But Philip did not need to hear the words. Despite the fact that Laurie did not say it, nor show it-he knew it in his heart.

* * *

 

 “Flavie?” Philip whispered, putting his head around the door. “Flavie? Are you asleep?”

 In the little lilac bed, something stirred in the sheets. Then-a little head, long hair fraying away from two long dark plaits, looked blearily up. “P-Philip?” she croaked.

 “Oh, I’m sorry I woke you.” said Philip, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to say good…night.”

 Straightening up, Flavia fluffed up her pillows behind her and smiled sleepily at her eldest brother. He made his way across the floor and sat down on the end of Flavia’s bed. “How are you doing, hey?” he asked her. Even in the darkness of the chamber, he could still see the sweet, childish roundness of her cheeks, her big blue eyes that blinked trustingly up at him. It was as if she thought he had the answers to all the mysteries of the world…how wrong she was. And yet how sweet it was to be a child, and to still think that adults knew everything, when truly they were as lost as children themselves.

 “I had a rather trying day,” Flavia said, in her funny precocious way. She stifled a yawn. “I am getting rather bored in my lessons without Mr Howell. Do you know when he is coming back?”

 Philip felt a pang. He hated to lie to her... “I don’t know.” he said gently, reaching out a hand to pat her little head.

 Flavia frowned. “But you’re friends, aren’t you?”

 Philip blinked in shock. “What?” His stomach gave a swoop of dread.

 “Yes,” Flavia said, in a very matter-of-fact way. “You were angry with Miss Carolina when she spoke badly of him. And I saw you waiting outside the classroom for him sometimes.” She let out another little yawn. “I like Mr Howell too. He’s nice.”

 It took Philip a little while to process this. Dear goodness. Little Flavia did not miss a thing. “Yes. Yes he is…” he sighed. How innocently she spoke of it. It had never occurred to her that he and Daniel were any different from one another, just because Philip was highborn and Daniel was not. It was quite lovely. He prayed that she would never think otherwise as she grew. More than ever, the lump in his throat began to grow once again, and his voice became heavy with emotion.“No matter what anyone says, you learn your science and mathematics.” He gently squeezed her shoulder, her soft cotton nightgown beneath his fingers. “You keep at it. Don’t let anyone ever stop you, or tell you that you can’t do something just because you are a little girl. You can do absolutely anything you set your mind to.”

 Flavia listened solemnly to this. She nodded, and smiled proudly. “I know that. Ms Reilly told me that she thought _I_ ought to be going to Harrow instead of Laurie.”

 “That’s it.” Philip said, his smile becoming more wobbly by the moment. He leaned forward, and kissed her little forehead, sniffing hard as he did so. “Good girl…much smarter than any one of us…goodness, little one, I do love you…”

 That was it. He blinked once-and a tear spilled down his cheek.

 Unlike her brother-Flavia noticed. She reached up, and touched his wet cheek with her little hand. “Why are you sad?” she asked, confused.

 Philip gulped hard, brushing away his tears. “I’m not sad,” he said, smiling determinedly. “I’m not sad. I’m just so proud that you’re my little sister…”

 Flavia still looked a little puzzled. But, after a moment-she smiled back. “I love you too, Philly. I’m proud that _you’re_ my big brother.”

 As the little girl looked up at him, her eyes so warm and bright-she gave another yawn. A big one, this time. And Philip knew that no matter how difficult it was-it was time for him to go. One last time, he helped her settle back down into bed, straightening her sheets and tucking them in around her. “Goodnight, Flavie.” he whispered, giving her one final hug. The feel of her little arms around his neck, squeezing him that bit too tightly, brought more tears forth.

 “Goodnight, Philly.” she replied, as she snuggled down.

 With the heaviest heart in the world, Philip got up, furiously wiping his face, more tears spoiling the futile effort. Then, as Flavia closed her eyes-he quietly shut her bedroom door behind him.

* * *

 Morning. The morning of mornings. 

 It was barely light outside. Though the wide windows of the entrance hall, Daniel could hear the birds singing in the dawn outside. He rubbed his eyes-early mornings had never agreed with him. He truly loathed rising. But today, of all days-he did not care. He could barely even stand still. Every time Daniel looked down at his pitiful luggage, the little bag containing all he had in the world, and the little black briefcase beside it-he felt as if he could dance all around the room! He had thought that the day he arrived at Ridingstone Hall was the most exciting day of his life. It turned out that the most exciting day was the one on which he left the place forever with the love of his life…

 “Got them!” At the top of the stairs, Philip appeared, carrying a little trunk under one arm and holding up a ring of keys with the other. He raced down the steps two at a time, beaming fit to burst. As soon as he reached Daniel, he dropped the trunk down onto the floor, and swept him up into his arms. “We are on our way!” he cried, his voice echoing around the entrance hall.

 “Shhh!” Daniel begged him-but it was all he could do to remain sensible. “My heart is racing like a rabbit’s!”

 “Mine too,” said Philip, looking half-dead from tiredness-and completely and utterly jubilant. How exhilarating this was-to escape from the Hall at the crack of dawn, with the Lesters and Whittakers all asleep upstairs, with absolutely no idea what was coming to pass under their very noses... It was almost too amazing…

  Then, suddenly, in the light of all of the joy-Philip’s face fell. He looked truly grieved, wracked with bitter guilt. “I left a note for my mother. Goodness, I hope she can forgive me…”

 Daniel sighed sympathetically, stroking his hair. “I am sure she would want you to be happy.”

 “I hope so…” Philip murmured, still looking down at the floor. Then, bravely-he smiled once more. “And I _am_ happy. I can hardly believe that we are about to do this! This is the craziest thing in the world-and yet I have never been more certain of anything in my life.” He pulled Daniel close to and kissed him. “I can hardly wait to see the Southern Coast!”

 Daniel was almost quivering with excitement. He leaned up for another kiss. “I can’t wait to see everything with you…I love you so much…”

 “I love you too!” Philip beamed, before their lips met again. Daniel closed his eyes, kissing him blissfully, knowing that all his life, he would lie in these arms, kiss these lips, feel that kind, sweet heart beating against his own…in their last few moments in Ridingstone Hall, Daniel felt, for the first time, truly and completely free…in just a few seconds, they would walk out of these huge blue doors and out into the world. Endless sky, endless sea, endless _life_ …and there was nothing in the world that could stop them now. They were, now and forever, one. And-

 The creak of a door.

 The sound of footsteps.

 And, like the Devil at the gates of Hell-a figure appeared at the top of the stairs.

 Too late, much too late-Daniel and Philip sprang apart. And, as one, they looked up in terror at the intruder on their own private Heaven…

 Not even the sight of Lucifer himself could be any more horrifying.

 For, standing at the top of the stairs, clutching a note in his hand and wearing an expression of upmost shock and disgust…was Mr Alfred Lester.


	18. The Drawing Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so, so much for reading <3 <3 <3 I love you all so much. I shan't keep you a moment longer! Hope you enjoy! Stay tuned for the penultimate chapter tomorrow! 
> 
> WARNING-Language and threat in this chapter xxx

 It seemed impossible that just moments ago, Daniel had stood in the entrance hall, his bags by his side and his head in the clouds, dreaming of a bright and beautiful future by the sea with the man he loved. It was remarkable, how quickly the most glorious joy could drain out of a person like a crack in a lifeboat. Moreover, how keenly it was replaced with the blackest grief of his life.

 Daniel could do nothing but weep. He buried his head in his hands as he sat outside the green drawing room, the room in which he had begun his journey into life at Ridingstone-and now, the room in which it was being brutally ripped apart. He cried bitter, silent tears as he waited for the end to come. Now, surely, he would never see his Philip again.

 Mr Alfred Lester had not said a word. But Daniel had no memory of how he had flown down the grand staircase towards them so quickly. In his mind’s eye, however, he could see that burly, red hand close around Philip’s slender arm-the horror of it shook him to the core. Though he was a shorter man, he was built like a brick wall and surely had twice the strength of either of them. Therefore, struggle as he did, Philip could not break free of his grasp as Mr Lester began to lead his step-son firmly back up the stairs and towards the drawing room.

 Daniel had been paralysed with fear. It was as if he had entered the realm of nightmares, where nothing was truly in his control any longer. He had watched helplessly as Philip was dragged away from him, away from him forever. Every ounce of his being was screaming _run to him! Help him!_ But Daniel had simply been frozen. Nothing in the world could have moved him, until…

 Something inside him snapped into place. Suddenly, Daniel found a strength and speed he had never known before. Like the wind, he had raced up the stairs, two at a time, trying desperately to catch up to Philip-but by the time he reached the corridor, the drawing room door had slammed shut. Daniel had heard a key turn inside. Philip was locked in with his stepfather.

 The _silence_ with which the whole thing had been carried out was what truly had shaken Daniel. Even now, as he stood by the locked door, he could not hear a word of what was going on inside. He could hear the low murmur of words-short, sharp words. But from them, he could gather no meaning. Only that they were foul, loveless and dooming.

 What could Daniel do? The most sensible thing would have been to flee, to run from Ridingstone Hall and never return. But how could he leave Philip? Nothing, _nothing_ in the world could have made Daniel leave him behind. So now, he stood powerless in this corridor, like a prisoner awaiting execution. What was to become of them now?

* * *

 “…should have known that something was afoot…Stupid, _stupid_ …”

 Alfred Lester closed his eyes, leaning against a table and rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. In his desperation not to wake the household, his usual shouting rage had been reduced to hisses, to spitting bitter words like a snake spat venom. But somehow-this stung more. The man was as red as a letterbox, and one could almost smell smoke from him.

 Philip stood as close to the door as he could. He knew it was locked, for he had already tried the handle. But still, he wanted to be as far away from his step-father as possible. He had never seen anyone, even the bulls in the fields, look so dangerous in his life. Still, his mind raced- _Daniel, where was Daniel_?

 “…but never, _never_ in my life did I ever think…” Alfred seemed unable to draw the words out from his throat. Suddenly-his fist came down on the table so hard that the whole thing creaked in protest. “The _tutor_?” he hissed through his teeth, flecks of spit flying from his lips. “ _Staff_? I never thought that even you could sink so low!”

 Philip stared at the man before him. He shared no blood with him. There was nothing they had in common but a wife and mother. The last shred of respect Philip had held for the man as his step-father drained away as easily as water on sand. Now-he was nothing but an enemy. And he had just insulted Daniel.

 “How _dare_ you call him low.” Philip murmured, in a low threatening tone that he could not believe he had inside him. “Though you think yourself high, the tutor you insult is worth _twelve_ of you.” 

 Alfred gaped for a moment. Then-he let out a terrible, bark-like laugh. However, there was no humour in it. He sneered at Philip, as a person might a dirty rat. “There is no surprise really. _Bad_ blood will out. You truly are a _bastard_ , through and through.”

 Philip felt his insides contort. _There_ it was. He had known it was coming-the cut to the jugular. But still-it enraged him like nothing before. He was so choked with fury that he could hardly speak. Still-he held up his head. “I would rather be a bastard than true-born and filled with hate and prejudice!”

 Alfred gave a low, rumbling snort, like an animal preparing for combat. “Your mother ought to have had you sent away at birth. You are not fit to walk the corridors of our ancestral home, like our true-born children. When I married Emmeline, I urged her to have you sent to the navy, far away from a society in which you have no place. If you had any decency, you might have drowned in some godforsaken sea on the other side of the world, rather than to continue to befoul us with your presence.”

 Without his specific instruction-Philip felt his fists clench.

 “But _no_ ,” Alfred continued, his fist still resting uneasily on the table. “Soft-hearted that she is, she insisted upon keeping you. So I obliged her. I even gave you my _name_ , for Christ’s sake! What man could have done more! Then, I bent over backwards to arrange you a match worthy of your mother’s true-born son-with a _Whittaker_ , of everyone in the world! Finally, you could have done something good for this family-every one of our financial troubles would be answered! Every man in England would die to be in your position, and _I_ did all this for my wife’s bastard! And _how_ is it that you repay me?”

 Philip stared directly into Alfred’s eyes, refusing to be broken. His words could not touch him. He no longer cared. “You cannot force me to stay here, and you cannot force me to marry Carolina! I am a free man, and I am leaving Ridingstone Hall! There is _nothing_ you can do to stop me!”

 “Nothing?” Alfred’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Nothing?” His hand sliding from the table, he took a step towards Philip. “You have always been naïve. Always _sweet_ and _kind_ -and you do not realise how such attributes lead to stupidity and ruin. You have _no idea_ what I am willing to do to secure the position of this family. I will go to the ends of the earth to restore our former glory. I will do anything and everything in my power to ensure that my children-my true children-can be proud to call themselves Lester, and to call Ridingstone Hall their home! There will be no more scandal here, Philip. You mark my words. Not while I am living.”

 Philip could move no further from him. Still-he forced himself to stand fast. “You do not deserve children like Laurie and Flavia.”

 Alfred snorted again, with no mirth. “You ungrateful bastard. You know absolutely nothing. But know only this-“ He took yet another step towards Philip. “I am the master of this Hall, and I am telling you what is going to happen now. You are going to take that trunk back to your chamber. Then, you are going to breakfast with your mother and the Whittakers. You and I will say nothing of this foul business to anyone. We are going to behave as if everything is entirely and completely normal. Meanwhile-I will send for a priest, and you and Carolina will be married _tonight_.”

 Philip felt as if his stomach had dropped to the floor. He felt physically sick. But still-he met his step-father’s eyes. “ _No_. You cannot make me. I will leave, and there is nothing you can-“

 “You will not leave this Hall.” Alfred said, raising his voice a fraction. “I will have every door watched, every window locked. All deliveries, all comings and goings from the Hall will be stopped. No one enters this house, save the priest, and no one leaves this house, until you and Carolina are married.”

 “You cannot force me to marry her!” Philip ran his hands through his hair in fury. “You cannot force me to say “I will”! I love _Daniel,_ ” His voice almost broke with emotion. “I love him, and I will not betray him for a life of misery in this place! There is nothing you can do that will make me marry Carolina!”

 Alfred said nothing for a long moment. Then-he made for the door.

 Philip leapt out of his way, confused as his step-father fumbled with the lock and key. He pulled the door open-and sprinted out, with the energy of a much younger man into the corridor. Philip hurried after him, astounded at this chance to escape-but before he knew where he was, it was too late.

 There was a gasp of shock-then a cry of pain as Alfred re-appeared-pulling a tear-stained Daniel behind him. Philip started at the sight of him-Daniel must have followed them both to the drawing room. Panic filling him, Philip ran to Daniel’s aid, reaching desperately for him, to save him from Alfred’s grasp any way that he could. But it was no use. Alfred was too quick, and much too strong. Before Philip knew what had happened-he had thrown Daniel into the drawing room with such force that the boy was knocked backwards into a heap on the floor. Philip could only glimpse his terrified face-before Alfred slammed the door shut and turned the key in the lock.

 “ _No_!” Philip tried desperately to wrestle the key from Alfred-but he quickly overwhelmed him. Philip could only grasp at the door handle, trying desperately to turn it, to break it by force-but it was no use. Daniel was trapped inside the drawing room.

 “Now do you see?” Alfred said, breathing hard-but there was nothing but triumph in his voice. “You _are_ going to marry Carolina. We _are_ going to be restored to our proper position. Nothing, least of all a bastard, will stand in my way!”

 “I’ll never do it!” Philip shouted, still trying in vain to break the lock. “For God’s sake! Are you _mad_? He has done nothing to you! Let him go!”

 “Not until you are married.” said Alfred, beginning to smirk terribly. “I am a reasonable man. I shall send the boy to find other employment. He _is_ a good tutor, after all…” Suddenly-the smirk took on quite another tone. “It would be an awful shame if he were to be… _prevented_ …”

 Like ice, Philip felt fear- _real_ fear-began to slip up his spine. “What do you mean?”

 That smirk. That terrible, terrible smirk… “This is not the city, where the boy came from. This is the _country_. We have a shed full of hunting equipment…and _well_ …accidents happen _all the time_ …”

 Philip’s heart had turned to ice.

 “Let me make this plain for you,” Alfred hissed. “You _will_ marry Carolina. You will not breathe a word of this affair to a soul-least of all your mother. I will not let you break her heart. And-“ Now, he grabbed Philip tightly around the arm. “If you should fail to comply with any of my wishes, I promise you, I swear upon my family, upon Ridingstone Hall itself…I will have the boy shot.”


	19. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! SO SORRY for not posting yesterday :( here is an extra-long chapter to make up for it. Thank you all so so much for sticking with me-endless love for you all xxx
> 
> Stay tuned for the FINAL CHAPTER tomorrow...and the epilogue the day after :D xxx

 “…I simply cannot and will not get married tonight!” Carolina announced to the breakfast table, throwing down her fork in protest with such force that she almost knocked over her drinking glass. “It is an absolute impossibility and there is absolutely no question of it!”

 Around the table, Edward Whittaker looked determinedly into his lap, embarrassed at his daughter’s display. Madame Violette looked utterly shocked, such a departure this was from Carolina’s eagerness to marry Philip. Emmeline Lester looked damply, but determinedly, enthusiastic at the prospect of this abrupt wedding. Alfred Lester was quiet-but anyone who knew him well could see that he was livid.

  Meanwhile-Philip’s heart gave a leap of hope.

 “ _Nonsense_ , petal,” Madame Violette said, putting a concerned hand on her daughter’s arm. “Why on Earth would you say such a thing?”

 “I _won’t_ do it!” Carolina shouted, like a child having a tantrum. “I won’t, I won’t, and no one can make me!”

 “But _why_ , sugarplum?” Madame Violette asked again.

 Carolina screwed up her face and folded her arms. “I have none of my finest jewellery with me! Nor my shoes, nor my ribbons! I haven’t even had a new dress made, and I absolutely refuse to get married without a white wedding gown! And we are in the middle of _nowhere_! I want to get married in _London_! I want everyone to see me in my dress, and I want to be the envy of everyone! I want _proper_ flowers, not the wilted ones that grow here, and I want a carriage with white horses and a veil with diamonds and I want…”

 This continued for some time. Despite the unattractive display before him-Philip begun to feel more warmly toward Carolina than he ever had before.

 “She’s right!” Philip interjected-and the assembled company of parents looked astonished. Even Carolina stopped mid-flow and stared at him in surprise. “Surely it will do Carolina a great injustice to be denied her dreams?” he said, with false support. “I think that we definitely ought to wait.”

 Alfred Lester fixed his step-son with such a look that Philip felt almost as if he was being stabbed.

 “Yes, perhaps we ought to wait,” said Edward suddenly. He nodded at his daughter, and Philip knew exactly from whom she had learnt to always expect her own way. “A shotgun wedding like this? People might begin to talk…”

 “Yes!” Philip agreed wholeheartedly. “We wouldn’t want anyone’s reputation to be harmed.”

 “Well, let them talk,” Madame Violette said, her voice carrying easily over the room. “I think it is a splendid idea to have the wedding tonight! In this beautiful house, Carolina dear, your marital home! Who needs rabbles at a family event? I think that a small, private wedding is much more classy. Besides, it will create such mystery that the whole of London will be talking about you anyway! Everyone will wish that they had been here themselves, and it will kill them all inside!”

 Philip’s eyes darted straight to Carolina. Clearly, Madame Violette knew exactly how to win around her daughter. At these suggestions, Carolina was beginning to look tempted. Then, once more-she recoiled. “But I will not have a dress!”

 “You can wear mine,” Emmeline said. She patted Philip’s knee, thinking deludedly that she was being helpful to her son. “It has been in our family for generations. It is quite beautiful, I assure you, and in perfect condition. Then you may have your pick of all of my jewellery. I am sure you will find many things that please you.”

 “How _wonderful_ , dear,” Alfred said, taking his wife’s hand. Over his mother’s head, Philip caught the triumphant flash of his step-father’s eye. “There you are, Carolina. We can go ahead with it after all.”

 “Oh, how romantic!” Madame Violette exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “A historical dress!”

 Carolina paused. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to disagree. Then, like the incoming tide…she smiled. “I shall have to see the dress before I make a decision.” 

 “Oh, of course, of course!” Emmeline said graciously. “How exciting all of this is!” Once again, she smiled at Philip, thinking so misguidedly that she was pleasing him. So desperate was she to make him happy that Philip’s heart hurt. He wanted nothing more than to blurt out the truth there and then…but then, he looked at Alfred. Those shining eyes. The efficiency with which he had put his plan into action…he thought of Daniel, and he almost burst into tears. Poor Daniel, locked away in the drawing room, alone and frightened…he closed his eyes, and thought back to the previous night, holding Daniel in his arms, feeling that sweet heart beating beneath his skin…If Philip told the truth now-that heart would stop.

 Philip felt as if he was drowning.  

 “Let’s see this dress then!” Madame Violette announced, getting to her feet and taking Carolina’s hand.

 “Right away.” said Emmeline. She looked down at Philip once again…and he forced himself to give her the smallest of smiles. It was agony…but, even thought his body ached, his mind was working fit to burst. It was life or death now. His life-and Daniel’s death. Whilst keeping both of them in the balance, he had to rescue Daniel, and escape Ridingstone Hall without discovery. All amongst preparations for his wedding, and under the ever-vigilant eyes of his step-father.

 But failure was not an option.

* * *

Footsteps.

 Daniel could hardly see straight as he looked up from the floor. He had not moved from the spot of floor onto which he had been thrown by Alfred. It was as if he was a field mouse hiding from an owl, as if complete stillness might keep him safe. Though he knew that weeping would do him no good, he could not seem to stop himself, his vision completely blurred with tears of anguish, injustice and, most of all, fear. He wept for Philip, whose terrible step-father was forcing him to do the very thing he dreaded most in the world, to marry the awful Carolina and remain trapped in Ridingstone Hall forever. The thought of losing him forever had made Daniel sob uncontrollably. But still-Alfred’s last threat rang in his ears like a death toll…

 Now, at the sound of footsteps, he crawled as fast as he could across the floor. “Hello?” he called frantically through the wood. “Hello? Is someone there?”

 The footsteps stopped. A pause. Then-an Irish voice. “Who’s there?”

 “Ms Reilly!” Daniel cried out in relief. “Oh, Ms Reilly, please, you have to open this door!”

 Another pause. This time…a very long pause. “Jesus…” the woman murmured. Daniel knew instantly that she must have been given very strict instructions from the master. But he was more than desperate. He would have to try.

 “ _Please_.” he begged her. He could barely breathe.

 “…I’m sorry…” Ms Reilly whispered. For the first time-Daniel heard the sturdy woman’s voice crack. “God forgive me…I’m sorry Daniel. I’ve served this household all my life. If I let you out against the master’s wishes, I will be dismissed.”

 Daniel covered his mouth-but he could not stop a strangled cry escaping. At the sound of this, Ms Reilly gave a soft, low moan, like a dog dying slowly. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her voice weak. “You poor, sweet boy…I honestly hate this to do this to you…” Then-before she could betray any more emotion-her footsteps hurried down the corridor away from him.

 Daniel was alone once again.

* * *

 

 The day wore on. There was so much to be done. From top to bottom, Ridingstone Hall was cleaned, washed, dusted, and tidied up until it shone from every corner. Philip found himself kept extremely busy-and never left alone for a second. For a long while, he was kept in his step-father’s study with his soon-to-be father-in-law Edward, entertaining him-under Alfred’s careful gaze. Then, he was to accompany Madame Violette around the house and gardens, showing her every inch of the house in which her daughter would soon be living-again, Alfred was never more than a step behind him. He was careful to steer their little tour far away from anywhere that might lead to the drawing room. Next, he was to press his best suit and polish his best shoes until they were fit to be married in. Still, Alfred stayed close to him, looking over his shoulder, ensuring that he stayed precisely to task, ensuring that he did not roam more than a step from his work-ensuring that he stayed exactly where he was supposed to be.

 It was obvious what he was doing. There could be no risk that Philip could run, find a way to free Daniel, and make their escape. And so, like a guard-dog, he stayed by his side.

 “Mr Laurel has gone to fetch the priest,” Alfred announced to him, some time in the early afternoon over their small lunch-the kitchens, at short notice, were preparing a spectacular evening meal to follow the wedding. “He will be here in under an hour. You will greet him, and you will remain with him, until the time comes.”

 Philip felt much to sick to swallow a single bite. Still, his mind was ticking and ticking over every single possibility like the cogs in a great clock, anything that might be done…and yet, his brains were failing him. Still, with Alfred’s dogged determination and his being kept well away from where Daniel was trapped-there was not a single thing…Nothing, nothing, _nothing_ …

 Once he was a married man, it would all be over. He would be tethered to Carolina, and Daniel would be made to leave. He would never see him again. Philip did not think that he could bear it. He had begun to physically shake. Daniel, Daniel…he had failed him. He had failed, and there was nothing he could do to save him-or to save himself…he was as trapped as poor Daniel in this house. Only his lock and key were the man who sat beside him.

 “You will be absolutely perfect this evening. Do you understand?”

 Philip said nothing. His throat had completely sealed shut.

 “ _Do you understand_?” the man repeated.

 Still, Philip could not speak.

 With a small smile, Alfred reached into the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled out the handle of a small, thick, black object. Despite its partial obscurity in the jacket-there was absolutely no mistaking what exactly it was that Alfred held. Tucked away in the velvet lining…was a handgun.

 “You will be perfect. Or I shall pay a quick visit to the drawing room…”

 Philip’s vision blurred as he looked at the gun handle. The notion of such a terrible object so easily ending the life of his Daniel was unthinkable…Suddenly, through his tears-a fierce protective rage filled every part of him. He could not let this man hurt Daniel, he could not. He could not let him lay a single finger on him…he looked at the gun handle once again, blinking hard. Oh God…if he could just get hold of the blasted thing…

 A wild idea of using the weapon occurred to him-then disappeared as quickly as it came. _No_. He could never kill.

 But…the gun was metal. It was heavy and solid. Perhaps…perhaps he could just use it to knock his step-father out? A quick bash to the head would do it…that would buy Philip enough time to rescue Daniel and escape from the house…

 Could he do it?

 He thought of Daniel, the terrified look on his face as the drawing room door had slammed shut.

 Maybe he had to.

 He _had_ to.

 Slowly, without his brain’s specific instruction…Philip’s hand began to reach out towards his step-father.

 Then-

 “Mr Laurel has gone to fetch the priest!”

 Instantly, Philip drew his hand backwards. Emmeline Lester had appeared in the room. She looked absolutely radiant in green, her lips painted pale pink in preparation for the wedding. As she looked down at her son-she clasped her hands in delight.

 “Oh Philip, I am so happy!” she exclaimed, bending to wrap her arms around him where he sat and dropping an excited kiss on his cheek. “I have been waiting for this day for so long!”

 Philip’s heart felt like granite.

 “All I have ever wanted is to see you happy!” 

 Philip turned, and looked up at his mother’s smiling face. She grinned so broadly that she looked like a marionette. But still…there was something in her eyes that did not quite match. In those sky-blue eyes that exactly matched Philip’s, there lay something altogether different. Hidden inside them-was a question. A question that had been answered-but whose answer she doubted. And now-she was going to ask it again.

 “ _Are_ you happy, Philip?”               

 Silence.

 Philip swallowed hard. He looked up at his mother. It had always been difficult to lie to her. By now, he had lied to her so often that it ought to be getting easier. However-quite the opposite had proven to be true.

 Oh _God_. This was hell. And what could he do?

 He took a deep breath.

 “…Mother, I-“

 A cough.

 Philip looked over at his step-father. Alfred said nothing-but his hand was lying on the side of his ribs. And it was grasping something which sat like an unexploded bomb beneath the material of his jacket.

 Emmeline looked on anxiously. “What is it, Philip?” She clutched him tighter. 

 Philip felt his heart break in his chest.

 “Only…only that…I love you, Mother. I-I am overjoyed that you are happy.”

 A pause. Then-relief filled Emmeline’s face. “Thank _goodness_. Well-I shall leave you to change! Oh, I can hardly believe that you are to be married tonight!”

* * *

 Footsteps.

 Daniel had been leaning against the door, desperate to hear this sound. For hours, it seemed that the corridor had been deserted. Alfred had probably seen to that. And now, now that he heard the wonderful sound of a passer-by, he could hardly believe that it was not a dream.

 “Hello!” he called out, his voice croaking slightly from all his tears. “Hello? Is someone there?”

 A pause.

 “Mr Howell?” came a small, inquisitive voice.

 Daniel’s heart leapt-then sank. By goodness. It was little Flavia.

 “Mr Howell? Are you in here?” A hand was trying the handle of the drawing room door. “Why is this door locked?”

 “Miss Flavia?” Daniel called, trying to keep his voice as gentle and calm as possible. He loathed to put upon a child. But what choice did he have? “Miss Flavia, dear, you must listen to me very carefully-“

 “Are you locked inside?” Flavia, as always, was one step ahead of him. “How odd that you are in here. I would have thought that Philip would want you at the wedding. He doesn’t have any other friends who are coming…”

 Daniel’s heart dropped at the dreaded word “wedding”…but his brain whirred. “Yes! Yes, he does! But I have only gone and locked myself in here! How silly of me!”

 Flavia spluttered. “That _is_ silly!”

 “Miss Flavia, would you mind being a very grown-up girl and helping me get out?”

 A small pause. Then- “Ms Reilly will have a key-“

 “No!” Daniel shouted-then quickly, he recovered himself, leaning against the door. “No, not Ms Reilly. We wouldn’t want to bother her when she is so busy with preparations! Flavia, dear, can you think of anyone else who might have a key?”

 The girl thought hard. Then- “Gladys the maid. She cleans in here.”

 “Oh, you clever girl!” Daniel covered his face with relief. “You brilliant, brilliant girl! Please, darling, will you run and fetch the key? Oh, I am so grateful-“

 “Of course,” said Flavia graciously. “I’ll return presently.”

 “Thank you, thank you!” Daniel called after his student. Now-he shrunk down against the door, hugging his knees to his chest. More tears sprung to his eyes-tears of relief and hope. Bless the child, bless the child… oh, Flavia must have been sent to him as a sign that he and Philip were supposed to be together! Perhaps, if he could get to Philip before the wedding begun, and unobserved by Alfred  Lester, the two of them could still escape…

 Still, Daniel was afraid. Being in the same house as somebody who had threatened his life was terrifying. He could not help feeling scared…but he took deep breaths, knowing that he had to be brave. He had to rescue Philip. They had their house by the sea to get to, their lives to build together. And they would do it, come hell or high water. He loved him so…

 Ten minutes later-a little knock on the door. Then, gloriously-the turn of a key.

 As the door opened to reveal little Flavia, dressed in her best white dress with her hair in white ribbons for the wedding-Daniel could not help but weep afresh. He had never been more elated to see someone in his whole life.

 Flavia, on the other hand, frowned slightly, pocketing the keys. “Why are you _crying_?” she asked, confused. 

 “Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly, rubbing his face hard. “You clever girl. I can never thank you enough-”

 But Flavia was unwavering. “Is it because Philip is getting married? Mama was crying too. She says that everyone cries at weddings.” She paused, tilting her head to one side. “Why do people get sad at weddings?”

 Daniel was overwhelmed. Now that he was free, he did not know what to do first for the best.

 Flavia looked up at him curiously. “Are _you_ sad that Philip is getting married too?”

 The nail on the head. Daniel gulped as he looked down at the little girl before him. He could not quite believe what she had just said. Moreover-he had absolutely no answer he could give her…he could not tell her that his heart was shattered, that his soul was dying…

 Flavia, meanwhile, had reached into her pocket. She brought out a little white handkerchief, trimmed with lace, with a wonky “F” cross-stitched by the child herself. Then, she held it up to Daniel. “I never cry. You should take this for the wedding, or you’ll look jolly silly.”

 At this-Daniel could not help but cry harder.

 “Come on,” Flavia reached up, and took his hand in hers. “We had better go, or we will be late.”

 Just like that, and trying desperately to formulate a plan of action through his tears, Daniel allowed Flavia to lead him downstairs.


	20. The Wedding

 Daniel felt sick as he reached the bottom of the Grand Staircase. His back was aching slightly-Flavia was around half his height as she kept a tight grip of his hand-but he hardly noted this as his stomach seemed to suddenly contain all seven seas. It felt as if there was a gigantic whirlpool inside him, splashing and spitting as it turned and turned in a vortex of fear…

 What a shame that it was such a beautiful day…the sun was shining high in the sky, and the birds were lazily singing the evening in. It was a perfect summer’s afternoon. Daniel felt mocked…

 “Mama told me to come to the Sunken Garden,” Flavia explained to him as she pulled him forward. “I’m going to have a big bunch of flowers to hold, she said. And then I’m supposed to scatter the petals in front of Carolina after the ceremony. But I don’t really know why-flowers are so lovely and she is only going to step on them…”

 Daniel felt much too ill to answer. He was allowing the child to lead him-and yet, perhaps this was unwise. As they passed through the large French doors which led onto the gardens, he knew that he had to reach Philip, to save him from this terrible fate…and yet he had to stay hidden from Alfred. He seriously doubted whether the man would be carrying a gun to a family wedding-even he could not be that crazy…but it still seemed foolish to stroll straight into the sunken garden. He would be like a fish in a barrel.

 “Flavia, dear?” Daniel whispered to her as she tugged him up the cobblestone path towards the hedge-arches. “Would you mind leaving me here for a moment? I should very much like to compose myself before…before the wedding.”

 Flavia turned to him, blinking her big blue eyes up at him. They shone in the late sunlight, just the way that her elder brother’s did. But they were much sharper-and much less willing to mince their words. “Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Your face is all blotchy and strange.”

 Daniel could not help but give a small wet chuckle at the brutal honesty of the little girl. “You are probably right.”

 “Alright, Mr Howell,” said Flavia, stopping them both in their tracks. “The garden is through the hedge and around the corner.”

 “Yes,” Daniel nodded. “I know. Philip showed me…” He thought back to that long-ago time, his heart aching in his chest. Oh God. Philip was to be married in the very garden they had enjoyed together, the garden in which Daniel had fallen ever further in love with him…he knew how this must twist the dagger for poor Philip. Still, thank goodness it was not their beloved Lily Garden. That would be even more difficult to bear. Not that he could bear this in the slightest…

 “You look really sad!” Flavia exclaimed, her little voice cutting into his thoughts. She stared up at him in confusion, folding her arms. “Why are we even having this wedding if it is making everyone so sad?”

 Daniel made a non-committal noise. Once again, he could give her no answer.

 “You are sad, Mama is sad, Philip is sad.” Flavia listed off, her little brow furrowed in confusion. It seemed that she had been pondering this all day. “Papa isn’t sad, but he isn’t happy either. And I heard Carolina _shouting_ in her room. Something about a necklace, I think. The only person who is happy is Madame Violette!”

 At hearing that Philip’s sadness had been noticed even by the youngest member of the household, Daniel felt his heart physically break. His poor Philip. How dreadful all of this was…he had to prevent this black event, no matter what it took. “Oh…” he whispered, blinking hard.

 Flavia frowned. But still, she took a deep breath, and straightened up. “Goodbye, Mr Howell.”

 “Goodbye, Miss Flavia,” Daniel managed to say, his voice almost breaking. “And thank you once again. You have been brilliant.”

 With a final, hard look, Flavia turned on her heel, and marched away from him towards the sunken garden. A second later, she had disappeared into the hedge-arch.

 Daniel walked as quickly and quietly as he could to a closed part of the hedge. He paused, listening hard. There were voices. Male voices, female voices-and now, added to this, the voice of a child. Daniel could not hear specific words-but a male voice was certainly scolding Flavia for her lateness. He strained and strained-but he could not hear Philip’s voice at all.

 He had to get closer.

 Carefully, Daniel slipped through the hedge-arch, and hurried around the corner, stopping just short of the entrance to the sunken garden itself. He was inches away from the hedge-arch which led into the garden itself-but he knew that he was invisible to the people whom the voices inside belonged to. Daniel pressed himself against the hedge, trying to breathe evenly. Now-he had to think of something fast. Something. Anything. Anything to stop this wedding…but what could he do? If only there was some way of getting a message to Philip, or signalling somehow to him that he was there. But he could not fathom how without also altering Alfred (whose voice he could now hear clearly) to his presence…oh _God_. Frantically, Daniel racked his brains...

 Footsteps.

 “…this dress is tolerable, I suppose, but it does not have nearly enough jewels. Thank goodness Emmeline had a decent amount of jewellery, otherwise I should look like a pauper’s wife!”

 “Never worry, sugarplum. You look absolutely beautiful.”

 “Oh, what do you know about fashion, Daddy!”

 Daniel’s heart leapt into his throat. The Whittakers! The Whittakers were approaching from the house! Daniel looked wildly from side to side for an escape-but he could not dash into the sunken garden, for then he would be seen by all! He could not run back to the hall, for then he would crash straight into the forthcoming party! Daniel stood, frozen with fear to the spot, his back to the hedge…What was he to do? His heart thumping fit to burst, he could only watch with horror as a little white shoe stepped through the first hedge-arch…

 “Oh!” Carolina appeared-and wrinkled her nose. “Who is this?”

 She looked absolutely radiant in a beautiful lace wedding dress, flared back at the waist into a long train behind her-which was being obediently carried by her father. Holding her arm, there was Madame Violette, who all but stole the show from her daughter in another magnificent purple gown. But, unlike the daughter-Madame Violette’s handsome face broke into a wide smile at the sight of Daniel cowering in the hedges. “Oh, what a treat! It’s our young pianist!” Instantly, she swept forward, with the posture of a queen, and planted a large, wet kiss on Daniel’s cheek. He knew that she had left an enormous magenta lip-print upon him. Behind Carolina, Daniel could see Mr Whittaker flinching.

 “H-how do you do, Madame?” he stammered politely, quite overwhelmed once again by her majesty. He did not think it polite to rub his cheek clean.

 “Oh, wonderfully well, thank you,” Madame Violette said graciously. “A most exciting day! Why are you not in this quaint little low garden with the rest of the guests, then?” She twinkled up at him. “Not too shy, are you?”

 “Oh!” Daniel’s brain whirred. “I-I’m not a guest! I-I’m staff! I-I wasn’t invited.” He could feel Carolina’s scowl cutting into him like glass. “B-but I…” He looked at her-and was struck with a sudden brainwave. “I did so want to see Miss Carolina’s dress. Everyone is saying that she will be the most beautiful bride who has ever lived. And-and I see now that they are right!” He smiled desperately, praying that he was convincing.

 Thank goodness that this excuse seemed to work. Initially, Carolina looked surprised. Then-her glare melted into a satisfied smile, like a haughty princess to a little serving maid. Madame Violette, on the other hand, gave a high laugh, clapping her hands together. “Oh, how sweet you are! Such a talented pianist must appreciate the artistry of such a beautiful dress.”

 Daniel forced himself to smile innocently, his cheeks beginning to ache. “Well, I shall not keep you from your wedding a moment longer!” he said, stepping backwards respectfully to allow the bridal party to pass. “Goodbye, Madame Violette. Goodbye.”

 With a final, regal wave to him-Madame Violette took her daughter’s arm once more, and let her straight out into the sunken garden. Edward Whittaker followed behind, the train bunched clumsily in his arms. The moment they were gone, Daniel let out the biggest sigh of relief he had ever known. Then-once more, cold fingers of fear closed around his heart. Philip-Philip was now mere feet away from his bride… Oh God, it was absolutely _hopeless_ …

* * *

 In true romantic fashion, Philip felt rather faint when he saw his bride for the first time. However, this was not, as was tradition, due to her radiance or his love for her. This was the harsh stroke of reality. This was hell.

 Now, pale and sickened, he stood beside the most desirable socialite in all of England in his dear sunken garden, surrounded by pale flowers and ancient stones. Any man in the country would have been delighted to swap places with him. And Philip would gladly have allowed them.

 Behind him, his mother stood, looking on with misty eyes. Flavia stood before her, clutching a pretty bunch of freshly-picked flowers, with the most peculiar expression on her face. Laurence sulked behind his mother’s skirts, reluctantly scrubbed and combed to within an inch of his life. He was fidgeting, clearly restless. And beside them all-Alfred. Only Philip could see it-but he was certain that there was a defined bulge in the breast of his jacket. Philip’s step-father had brought the gun to the wedding. And it made Philip want to vomit.

 Most dreadfully of all-in front of Philip and Carolina stood a bent old man, with wisps of white hair combed across his skull. In his hands, he held a Bible. And around his neck, there was a perfectly pressed dog collar. Father Richard droned on, speaking the words of the marriage ceremony in a reedy Northern accent. As Philip half-listened, he thought that funeral rites were much more apt to this bleak day…

 Still, all Philip could think of was Daniel. His poor Daniel, locked in the drawing room at the house. He must be so frightened…Philip wanted to weep as he thought of it. His Daniel, the love of his life…he was never going to see him again…but as long as Daniel was in the drawing room, he was out of danger. That was the only reason why he was standing here, beside Carolina Whittaker, minutes away from becoming her husband, binding himself to her for the rest of his life. The reason was the gun in Alfred’s jacket. The reason was the feeling of Daniel’s heart beating against his own. He had promised to take care of Daniel. He would do anything, anything in the world to keep him safe from harm.

 Even this.

 Philip stood fast.

 The priest went on. 

 “…and if anyone here present can show just cause why Mr Philip Lester and Miss Carolina Whittaker may not be lawfully joined together…he should speak it now, or forever hold his peace.”

 Silence rang through the garden. The soft sound of birds overhead, as they nested in for the night. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the place in a beautiful pinkish glow.

 Philip waited.

 Everyone waited.

 But still-no one spoke.

 Philip let out a deep breath, his entire body shuddering.

 “Well then,” said Father Richard. “We may now move onto-“

 “I can!”

 

 

 Suddenly-a voice. A voice that echoed around the whole of the garden.

 It was as if the entire world stood still. All the world-except for one person. That person had stepped forward into the centre of the sunken garden. Though all eyes fell in astonishment upon them-they were completely unflinching. Back straight, head up, eyes strong.  And those eyes were looking straight at Philip.

 It was Flavia.

 She stood with the steadfastness and conviction of a soldier. Her hands were on her hips, her bouquet of flowers hanging down by her side.

 “Er-“ Father Richard stammered, closing his Bible in shock.

 “Ha!” Laurence gave a bark-like laugh of surprise and bewilderment, his eyes shining with glee. “Oh, Flav, you’ve really done it now! You are _dead_!”

 “ _Flavia_!” Alfred Lester hissed in fury at his daughter. “You will get back here this instant! How _dare_ you interrupt the ceremony!”

 Caroline gave an enormous “ _Humph_!” of frustration, stamping her foot on the paving stones. “I _told_ you that we shouldn’t have let the children come!” she stormed at Philip.

 But he wasn’t listening to her. Turning around, Philip hurried to his little sister. Crouching down, he looked straight into her eyes. “Whatever is the matter, Flavie?” he asked her gently. His heart was thumping fit to burst.

 Flavia looked straight past Philip. She ignored Carolina, ignored the Whittakers, even her own parents, the hissing Alfred and the pale Emmeline. She addressed only the biggest figure of authority in the garden. Father Richard.

 “I don’t think that Philip and Miss Carolina should get married.”

 Emmeline gave an audible gasp. Alfred made a noise like an angry cat. Carolina gave a small scream of frustration. And Father Richard looked most incredulous at the small girl addressing him with such force. He fumbled with his Bible, gaping at her.

 “S-small girls,” he begun nervously. “should be seen, and not heard!”

 “But I have something important to say!” Flavia continued daringly. “And I should like you to listen, if you please.”

 Philip could hardly believe his eyes. But Flavia was unfazed. She placed her small hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “My brother Philip is not happy. He does not want to marry Carolina. I do not believe he has ever wanted to,” A pause. “She _is_ most disagreeable, after all.”

 Another hoot of laughter came from Laurence, who was quickly slapped by his father. But it was Carolina who took centre stage at this insult. “ _Why, you disgusting little toad_!” she shrieked, making for Flavia with raised hands.

 Instantly, Philip sprang to his feet, making of himself a barrier between Carolina and his sister. “Don’t you come near her!” he warned.  

 “Philip, you cannot be allowing this!” Carolina shouted, folding her arms over her chest and stamping her foot once again. “Do you not hear how the little beast is speaking to me!”

 “Actually, I wasn’t speaking to you,” Flavia said calmly from behind her brother. “I was speaking to Father Richard.”

 With an animalistic screech, Carolina tried to make a dive for Flavia once again, and had to be restrained by her own mother and father. Both Whittaker parents looked enraged at such a humiliation of their daughter. All the same-both were too shell-shocked by Flavia’s display to say a single word. Philip was completely stunned by his little sister. Standing there, in her little white dress, speaking in such an adult manner. She was like a barrister in a court of law.

 “ _Flavia_!” Alfred hissed once again, his fists clenched with ferocity. “ _You will come back here right this moment, or I shall_ -“

 “This wedding has made everyone miserable!” Flavia continued bravely. “Philip is the most miserable of all, and I do not want to see my brother sad. Moreover, I do not want to see Mama sad!”

 “...Flavia, dear,” Emmeline began shakily, taking a step toward her daughter. She had been silent until now, utterly rattled at the behaviour of her youngest child. But now, she held out a hand, a strange, forced smile on her face. “Mama isn’t sad! I am crying because I am _happy_!”

 “No you’re not,” said Flavia defiantly. “You are _always_ pretending to be happy! Mama, it hurts my heart to see you _trying_ so hard all of the time...”

 At this observation-Philip felt almost as if he could burst into tears. He took Flavia’s hand in both of his, and held on tightly.

 “I…” Emmeline stuttered. Her face turned chalk-white…then deep red. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking. But no one in the garden could deny that her eyes had flicked straight to her husband. Alfred Lester.

 “We have had _quite_ enough from you, young lady!” Alfred raged. He rushed forward towards his daughter, arms outstretched. “How dare you! You are going straight to your room-!”

 “You see!” Flavia cried, pointing to her father. “We are all angry and upset because of this wedding! Even Mr Howell is crying!”

 At these words-Alfred stopped dead. His skin slowly began to turn purple with rage.

 Philip’s heart dropped to the centre of the earth.

 Instantly, he took hold of his sister’s shoulders, turning her to look him in the eyes. “Where have you seen Daniel?” he asked her desperately, forgetting to be gentle, forgetting everything else in the world. “Flavia?”

 “Just now!” said Flavia plainly. It was clear that she was oblivious to her father’s anger. “He locked himself in the drawing room, but I found the key!”

 Philip did not need to hear any more. Without even looking at his step-father, without a second thought to anyone or anything else-he began to sprint, faster than he had ever moved in his life, towards the hedge-arch that led back to Ridingstone Hall. “ _Daniel! Daniel!”_ he cried frantically. _“Where are you_?”

 But no sooner did he run through the arch-did he fall into warm, loving arms. “ _Oh Philip_ …” a voice wept into his shoulder.

 Philip could hardly breathe. He was quite certain he must have been dreaming. How could Daniel be here, miraculously freed from his prison in the drawing room, safe in his arms? But here he was, breathing, sobbing, wet through with tears and holding onto him fiercely. He was real. He was here.

 “Thank heavens you are alright!” Philip held him so close that he thought he might break him in two, kissing his hair hard. “I thought I would never see you again!”

 “I tried to get to you, but I didn’t know how!” Daniel whimpered. “I’m-I’m so sorry!”

 “Shhh…” Philip comforted him, stroking his hair. “Shhh…it doesn’t matter now…” He gave a small, strangled moan. “Oh, Daniel, what are we going to do?”

 But there was no time.

 “ _Philip_!”

 Philip had never heard such a sound before. A voice from the depths of hell. The bray of the devil himself could not have struck more fear into his heart.

 Philip turned around, to see every member of the Lester family, and all three Whittakers, staring at them.

 And in the centre of it all-Alfred.

 The man was breathing so hard that each one came with a low whistle, like a boiling kettle. Shaking with rage, Alfred glared at his step-son. There was a mad desperation in his flaming eyes.

 “I never would have believe it…” he snarled. “To shame your family in private is one thing…but _this_ …” He spat on the ground furiously. It seemed to sizzle on the grass. “I thought that you might finally have seen reason. But you truly are a _bastard_ , through and through!”

 There was a gasp from the assembled company. Philip could see Father Richard crossing himself, the Whittakers whispering to one another in shock. Laurence, and finally Flavia, had begun to cry, terrified of their father’s anger, devastated by their brother’s pain. But it was Emmeline who stepped forward, her face the colour of snow.

 “ _Alfred_!” Her voice barely carried across the garden-but her anger was white-hot. “You swore you would never tell a soul!”

 “What does that matter now?” Alfred yelled. “ _Bad_ blood, through and through! I always told you that he was rotten to the core, and now he had proven himself!”

 Philip had not let go of Daniel, who was trembling with fear. Taking a deep breath-his fingers wound themselves through Daniel’s, and held on fast. Then-he looked directly at his step-father.

 “It is _you_ who is rotten!”

 It took Alfred a few moments to process this insult. And when he finally did…a sick smile began to spread over his face.

 Less than a second later-Alfred had reached calmly into his coat pocket-produced the handgun-and pointed it straight at Daniel.

 Carolina screamed, and dived behind her parents. Flavia and Laurence wailed, now clutching one another in horror. Emmeline looked ashen, frozen to the spot with terror. She was gaping at Alfred as if he was a stranger, as if she had never seen him before in her life. But he paid no mind to the chaos behind him. He had eyes only for Philip.

 “ _I swore to you, Philip. I told you what I would do_ ,” Alfred did not even sound human. His finger itched on the trigger of the gun. “ _And now I, unlike you, bastard-am going to keep my word!"_

 But Philip was not frozen to the spot. He was filled with desperate love and life-blood.

 Without a second thought-he stepped neatly in front of Daniel.

 Now, he made of himself a shield between Daniel and the barrel of Alfred’s gun.

 Daniel gasped with shock. He was shaking with fear-but still, he bravely tried to move Philip out of harm’s way. “ _Please_!” he cried, desperate to protect Philip, as Philip was desperate to protect him. “Don’t do this!”

 But Philip stood, as steadfast as his sister had been. He stared his step-father down. “ _You will not hurt him_!” he shouted.

 No birds sang any longer.

 Alfred’s hands were shaking as he lowered the gun a fraction. “You stupid boy!” he yelled. “Get out of the way!”

 “No!” Philip stood firm. “Never! I will never let you, or anyone else, hurt him!” He reached backward, and took Daniel’s hand once again, gripping tighter than a vice. “I promised you, Daniel! I love you!”

 Daniel gave a small gasp. He was scared out of his mind. But still-he squeezed his hand back. “I love you…” he whispered.

 Alfred gazed at his step-son for a long moment, his finger still hovering on the trigger of the gun. Then-his face was set. “ _So be it_ …” Once again…he raised the gun.

 Philip closed his eyes. _He was with Daniel. He was with Daniel_ …the warmth of his hands, the beat of his heart…they would always be together now…no one could ever tear them apart again…everything was alright. Everything was beautiful, in this beautiful sunken garden…Daniel was close, loving him, loving him always…

 Then-

 “ _No_!”

 A rush of footsteps. A flash of wind as a person sprinted to Philip. And stood directly in front of him.

 Philip opened his eyes-and was confronted with a head of black curls. A woman in a long green dress, her arms spread wide in front of him, shieling him from the path of the waiting bullet.

 His mother. 

 “ _You point that thing away from my son_!”

 Philip almost collapsed with relief, clutching Daniel’s hand tighter than ever. His heart was racing so hard that he marvelled at how it managed to continue without breaking down. Still-he was alive. He was alive…and his mother was here.

 “ _Emmeline_ …” Alfred stammered. After a moment-he dropped the gun down to his side. The garden itself seemed to breath a sigh of relief as the weapon fell. Suddenly, as Alfred looked at his wife-he seemed a broken man. “ _Emmeline, please_ …”

 But Emmeline was not listening to him. She spun on her heel to face her son-and looked deeply into Philip’s eyes. “Philip…?” She took a deep breath. “Do you love this boy?”

 Philip was so choked that he could hardly speak. But, summoning the last of his courage, he met her mother’s gaze. “Yes, Mother. With all my heart.”

 Emmeline looked searchingly at him. Her own eyes were filled with tears. Now, it seemed, she realised that all that had happened that summer had been a façade and a lie. Her entire life was a lie… but now, with all of her strength, she took her eldest son’s face in her hands. “Are you _happy_ with him?”

 “ _Yes_ , Mother.” Philip whispered.

 Emmeline pressed her lips together.

 There was silence for a long moment. Evening was truly closing in now. And, it seemed, the whole world was holding its breath.

 Then-

 “Take this.” Emmeline reached into the pocket of her gown-and pulled out a green beaded drawstring purse. She pressed it into Philip’s hand. “It-it was to be my wedding present to you.” Closing his fingers around it, she kissed her son’s forehead fiercely. “Use it to get away from here-as far away as you can.” She sniffed hard-then kissed him again, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks. “ _Go now. Don’t look back.”_

 Philip was shaken. He stared at his mother in disbelief. Then-he glanced over her shoulder. Alfred stood, like a puppet that had had its strings cut. Laurence and Flavia clutched one another still, their little faces horrified at the scene which had just played out before them.

 “I can’t leave you with him-“

 “ _Yes you can_.” Emmeline said firmly. “Believe me, darling boy, I am _not_ staying here, and neither are my children.” Suddenly, she turned to Daniel. She seemed to search him with those blue eyes, as she had on his first day-then, she gave him a damp smile, her eyes shining. “This is a sweet boy. A kind boy. Philip, I wanted nothing more than for you to have someone _kind_. Kindness is the greatest thing in the world…”

 Philip squeezed Daniel’s hand. He pocketed the purse. Then-he threw his arm around his mother. “I love you…” he whispered.

 “I love you too, Philip.” she said through her tears. “And I have never, _never_ been ashamed of you. No matter who your father was, you are my _son…”_

 When the embrace finally ended-Emmeline held Philip at arm’s length. She took a final, long look at him, as if she was trying to learn the look of him by heart. Then-she pushed both Philip and Daniel away from her, out through the hedge-out of the sunken garden, out towards the gates that led out into the rest of the world.

 

 “ _Go! Go now! And don’t look back at Ridingstone Hall!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all endlessly <3 I hope sincerely that you have enjoyed this. If even one person has enjoyed this fic, then all of the hours are more than worth it. I love you all <3 
> 
> Stay tuned for the epilogue tomorrow! <3 xxx


	21. Epilogue

 

* * *

 

_Two years later_

* * *

 

 Philip swung his bicycle around the final corner of the high street, letting the wheels spin of their own accord as he steered. It was a beautifully sunny day. Behind him, over the tops of the rows of shops with brightly-coloured awnings, there was a line of glistening grey-blue sea, rolling lazily over itself on the distant shore. There was a slight sea wind, but it was not enough to spoil the glorious warmth of the afternoon sun on his arms. Brighton was truly the most beautiful place. And now-Philip called it home.

 Finally, he pulled up his bicycle and stepped up onto the pavement in front of a shop. The storefront was painted delicate blue, and in the window there was the most beautiful display of summer flowers. Every colour of the rainbow, they flowed from vases, spilled from hanging baskets and exploded from small bushes. Even from the outside, he could smell their sweet, heady mix of perfumes. Behind them, a young woman with blonde hair piled on top of her head bent over the windowsill, carefully watering the plants with a green metal can.

 Leaning his bicycle against the blue bricks, Philip tapped cheerfully on the window. The woman looked up from her work, waving and smiling as she saw him. Grinning contentedly, Philip skirted around and pushed open the glass door of the florist, bells tinkling above his head, usually to announce the arrival of customers. He passed beneath the large, pale blue sign above his head on the front of the shop: _Flavia_ ’s. Then-the strong scent of fresh flowers hit him like a wonderful tidal wave.

 He adored this little shop. It felt as if he was always in his very own flower garden…

 “Evening, Philip!” Rosemary called as she stepped down from the window, clutching the watering can to her chest. She wore a pale blue dress with a white apron, a matching pale blue ribbon in her hair. “Everything alright at the bank?”

 “Rest assured, you’ll be paid at the end of the week,” Philip winked at her, reaching into his bag and placing a pile of paperwork on the counter. “We’re finally taking off! Orders are fully booked for the next five weeks, and it’s all thanks to you!”

 “Oh, don’t say that,” Rosemary smiled modestly. “You must have had something to do with it too.”

 “If you hadn’t come to work for me, I would have killed most of the inventory!” Philip chuckled, absent-mindedly stroking the leaves of a large house-plant by his side.

 “Yeah, maybe you would have,” Rosemary raised an eyebrow fondly. “Look, I’m just about ready to close up for the day. But Philip-could you go and take a look at the chrysanthemums?” She pointed to the far corner at the back of the little shop, where the pink, purple and orange blooms grew. “I think there might be something the matter with them. They just don’t seem…well…” She gave a concerned sigh. “Go and see for yourself.”

 “Alright…” Philip frowned slightly. He loved his chrysanthemums, and took a lot of pride in them. They had looked perfectly fine when he had opened the shop this morning. What could have happened to them? Philip hurried to the back of the shop, studying the flowers closely. There did not seem to be anything wrong with them…but maybe-

 “BOO!”

 “ _Aargh_!”

 Philip almost jumped out of his skin. He fell backwards into the wall with a crash, his hands held aloft above his head in shock. Someone had crept up behind him! And that someone was now bent double, roaring with laughter. At the front of the shop, Rosemary was giggling hysterically into her hands, leaning on the counter to support herself. “Oh, Philip! That was _priceless_!”

 Still reeling, Philip straightened up, recovering what little of his dignity remained-before bursting out laughing himself. He looked finally at the perpetrator of the prank, who looked up at him with sparkling brown eyes. “You arse!” Daniel giggled delightedly. “How many times are you going to fall for that?”

 “However many more times you conspire with dear Rosemary against me! One of these days you will give me a heart-attack!” Philip pretended to be wounded-but he could not help but beam at the sight of him. “You’re early!”

 “The vicar’s daughter cancelled her piano lesson this afternoon. She’s got the chicken pox, poor lamb,” Daniel explained, looking sad for a moment-before he smiled back, holding his arms open. “So I get to come home!”

 “That’s wonderful, darling!” Philip pulled him into an embrace, holding him tightly. “Well, not about the chicken pox, but it’s brilliant to see you.” He kissed his cheek, drinking in his warm, clean smell. Every evening, when Daniel returned home, Philip could not help but think on all they had been through to simply be together. He always remembered how lucky he was. And now, looking into those robin-bright eyes and hearing that joyful laugh, he knew it more than ever.

 “I helped Rosemary sort the shop out for the night, and dinner is almost ready.” Daniel was saying. “So you can just relax.”

 “My goodness, you are perfect.” Philip gently stroked Daniel’s cheek, feeling the soft skin and the dent of his dimple. “Thank you so much.”

 “I know I am,” Daniel said lightly, with a grin. “Goodnight, Rosemary! And thank you!” he called over to her.

 “Goodnight!” Philip waved to his assistant, before taking Daniel’s hand in his, and beginning to lead him over to the staircase at the back of the shop.

 “Goodnight, boys!” Rosemary blew them both a kiss, then flipped the little sign on the shop door around from “Open” to “Closed”. “See you tomorrow!”

 And with that, Daniel and Philip climbed the stairs, and opened the door to the little flat above the florist. Their very own little home by the seaside.

 Philip stepped into the cosy living room, and habitually placed his shoes behind the squashy couch. Mugs of tea from that morning still sat on the little wooden coffee table, but he decided to ignore them as he drank in the delicious smell of cooking from the little kitchen next door. Through the little window on the opposite wall, he could see the ocean, glittering contentedly in the evening sun. Underneath this, there sat a small bookcase, which was stuffed with novels and histories that were perfect to read beside the little fireplace. And on top of this, the latest letters from Laurence and Flavia lay opened.

 Philip grinned as he looked around the place. It was miniature and sparse compared with Ridingstone Hall…But it was his very own. And he shared it with the love of his life…

 “What’s got you in such a good mood, hey?” Daniel appeared by his side, a tea-towel slung over his arm. Philip turned to him, this beautiful, kind boy who cared for him, who made him laugh and smile as no one else could…his heart swelled with love. He wrapped his arms around him once more, holding him close.

 “Nothing at all,” he murmured, before leaning in to kiss his lips. “Just you…”

 Daniel was surprised-but delighted. “I should come home early more often.”

 Philip was still feeling sentimental. He kissed him again, grateful for every single time. How incredible it was not to have to hide, to simply love and be loved. This was what life was all about. The sea. The sun. This little flat. His little florist, filled with beautiful flowers that made everyone happy. And, most of all…his own Daniel.

 “We’ve done alright, haven’t we?” he asked, his hands buried lovingly in Daniel’s curls.

 Daniel smiled. “Yes,” he agreed, wholeheartedly. His eyes were soft with love as he looked at Philip, and he knew that he was home. “Darling, we have done _wonderfully_.”

 How far they had come. And, most wonderfully of all-how far in this blessed paradise of a shared life they had to go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you endlessly for reading, for everything. I am eternally grateful. I am certain I will write more soon, and I hope to see you all again. Until then, this has been your friend, QuietBubbles <3 xxx


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